Second Chance
by Galadriell
Summary: Dark Army without a leader, a Slytherin without a purpose. Draco Malfoy is but a step away from gaining knowledge hidden in the depths of the Ministry archives. Perhaps Head Auror Harry Potter can lead him right to it. Harry/Draco SLASH! Gore and fluff
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Harry Potter universe and J. K. Rowling is God.

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy grimaced in disgust when he saw the body. The man had once been his best friend and now the lifeless shell was laid out so unceremoniously on the table. The people surrounding the body was so blasé and uncaring for it. Almost as though Blaise Zabini had never really been alive at all.<p>

Draco inspected him from head to toe. The man had grown into quite a specimen.

"Did you kill him?" Draco had asked his uncles when he first saw Blaise's cold body.

The older men had scoffed, shaking their heads. "Happy accident."

"What does that even mean?" Draco had murmured in disbelief.

"He knows details. He works at the Ministry in the Records and Bookkeeping Sector. He knows much too many details," Rabastan Lestrange had explained to Draco. "And we need those details. Anything you can find. Anything and everything you can find in ninety days."

"Ninety days?" Draco had asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Or faster," Rodolphus Lestrange had interrupted. "Potion won't last too long."

"Polyjuice?" Draco had wondered, knowing the answer.

"Yes."

"Ugh," he sighed again as he thought back to that conversation, revolted. Polyjuice for ninety days was going to ruin his appetite and his stomach. But it was something that must be done. Passing up on such an opportunity would be a waste and a crime. Besides, now he could do what he had been meaning to do for years.

Infiltrate the Ministry.

* * *

><p>After the War, Draco and his family had been disgraced by the events that followed – numerous heavily publicized court dates, criticisms and isolation. All this Draco had been prepared for. He had known that he would be shunned by society. He knew that his life would be forever destroyed because of his lack of strength and will. He understood that he was not worthy of anything. First his friends abandoned him. Then Draco's inheritance was seized as a cost for all the lives ruined because of the Malfoys. What right did the Ministry have to put a price on death? And finally…<p>

His father had been killed.

The culprit was never captured. There were many men and women, even children, who were out for vengeance for the deaths of their loved ones at the hands of Death Eaters. Death Eater scum, they were called now. The officials didn't even find Lucius' body until three days had passed. And even then, they cared little for it. The paperwork was pushed further and further down the pile - the murder was never a priority. Draco and Narcissa were left to wonder about the manner of Lucius' death, whether he had suffered, whether he had been tortured, or whether he had wanted to see them one last time.

Narcissa mourned. Draco was now sole heir, all debt and burden on his weak shoulders. His mother refused to look at him, the pain of seeing her husband in her son making her weak. They never spoke, rarely ever stayed in the same room together. Isolated in the mansion, they cried privately. Draco was driven away by his own. Narcissa, who loved Draco dearer than life, couldn't bear the sight of him. Draco, who lived for his mother's love, wasn't allowed near her. He couldn't bear it. His delicate mind couldn't cope with the losses. He slept through dreams of ending his life and leaving it all behind.

His mother beat him to it.

Draco found her lifeless body in the study, so beautiful even when shrouded with death. She had always been heavenly. And now she would let him touch her.

He stroked her hair, pressing teary kisses on her cheeks. How he wished she would shower him with love once again…

But she was dead.

Dead from the slashes on her wrist.

Barely two years had passed since the War had ended. Draco was alone in the world, young and inexperienced. For three months he kept to himself, trying to drown his body in alcohol and drugs. Damned body… It just wouldn't die. Try as he might, he couldn't do it. He was pitiful. He had blindly followed a man who he knew was less human and more monster. He had allowed himself to be used and abused, manipulated and weakened. He had turned into nothing. No money, no future, and no life.

Draco grew haggard and weak, refusing to feed or cleanse himself. His mind slipped away from him, insanity taking over until all he saw were ghosts and hallucinations. The mansion that was once his safe haven was now his cage. He couldn't find his way out. He needed to find his way out.

He stepped out into his overgrown grounds, filled with weeds and vines. He crushed the overgrowth, wandering through the jungle. He had nowhere to go. He had nothing to do. The undying ache in his body wouldn't go away. He fell to his knees, sobbing raggedly. Why had this happened to him? Why him?

He let out a strangled cry and scrambled away when he felt a snake trying to move up his leg. With an angry hiss, the serpent struck its defensive pose at being jolted. Draco had his arms out in front of him, heart hammering with fear. Then he realized what he was doing. He screamed in rage.

Why was he always scared of everything?

He hated this.

He hated being scared.

"Just kill me!" he shrieked, begging the snake to strike him dead. "Kill me!" He shouted his voice away, falling to his side and curling into himself.

The snake wavered uncertainly, watching and waiting to be harmed. Draco let his eyes fall shut. "I beg you to kill me," he pleaded soundlessly. "I beg you."

The snake slithered towards him, rustling the crushed leaves and dried twigs as it moved in all its superiority and elegance. Draco reached out with his hand, holding out his wrist. Offering his life. The snake didn't take it. Not yet. She slid over his warm arm, weaving around his thin limb. Her body moved flawlessly over him, soft and without hurry. Her head rested against Draco's chin. She flicked her tongue out, tasting his tears. He felt more tears cascading down and replacing the ones she had licked away. A rolling sibilant touched his ear, the snake speaking to him in an extinct tongue. Her head slid down his chin to his neck.

And she bit down on the white column of skin. Her fangs sunk in easily, as would a hot dagger to the gut.

Draco went limp, not from the poison but from relief. "Thank you," he whispered, fainting away.

The serpent unwound herself from his arm but did not disappear into her world of darkness. She stayed beside him, coiled against his fluttering heart for warmth.

It was two nights and three days before Draco awoke, screaming from his nightmare. He promptly emptied his stomach of what little he had in it, bile and all. He shivered from withdrawal and shock. He whipped his gaze around him. He was sprawled in the middle of a jungle. A jungle at nighttime. Crickets, toads, beetles, and asps sounded around him. He brushed away his sweat, trying to get up onto his feet. He had no strength. He fell to the ground, breathing heavily from the exertion.

He smelt the wet soil, feeling water from recent rainfall seeping into his skin. He laid in the cold brush, his eyes following the spindly spider that had decided to eat Draco for dinner. He shook it off of his hand, his lips quirking up at its antics. It wasn't about to let Draco go that easily. It started climbing up his fingers once again. Draco could barely feel it biting. He shook it off like before. The spider clambered around the leaves, raging and pacing out of frustration at being refused a meal. Then it tried one more time.

This time Draco let the spider settle firmly on the back of his hand. Then he turned around so he was facing the large moon. He held his hand to the light, looking at the spider. "You can't eat me," he said sensibly. "I'm not dead."

That didn't seem to stop the little spider. It happily chewed on Draco. He laid his hand on his stomach, blinking up at the pale and pure moon above him. "I'm not dead," he sighed.

It took him an hour to find his way back home. Once he did, he raided the kitchen, shoveling as much food as he could into his stomach. Then he threw it all up, feeling surprisingly good afterwards. He washed his face, shaving his rugged beard and brushing his teeth. That was enough moping for a lifetime.

He stood up tall and stared at the sickly looking man in the mirror. "Draco Malfoy," he greeted. "Slytherin, remember?"

Never again would he bow down to the will of another man. Never again would he accept defeat. Never again would he force Death upon himself.

He was going to make everyone pay for what they had done to him. No mercy, no conscience. No one mattered but him. And he would care for no one but him. Vengeance can go both ways.

And that's how Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange found their nephew a year later, cold-blooded and suave, sharp and poisonous. The perfect Slytherin.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco couldn't believe the things Blaise had access to. Employee files, bail requests, court transcripts, prison records – you name it, Blaise could find it with his security clearance. Draco didn't understand why the Ministry would give a former supporter of Lord Voldemort such power. Perhaps Blaise had passed the Veritaserum testing with flying colors. Perhaps he had cheated. But that wasn't what Draco needed to find out. He needed to stay low and thieve all the information he could to the Dark Army without getting caught.

He was glad Blaise was an anti-social. No girlfriends, fiancés or wives. No friends, really, other than the people he worked with. "Loner," Draco scoffed as he read the short list of people he needed to know. Blaise had been all high and mighty in school. Look where that got him… Dead.

Draco had once looked up to Blaise. The boy didn't waver in his condescending stance. He was always snubbing his nose at everything, authority figures, dangerous criminals, friends… Draco had admired Blaise's detachment once. Not anymore. He saw Blaise for what he was – a chameleon. The man didn't ever pick sides because he wanted to make sure that when the time came, he could choose the _winning_ side. A coward and a petty mime, that's all Blaise was. Draco saw it so clearly now that he was no longer blinded by false idolism.

Society. He detested mingling with society. He never knew how to act, what to say and when to respond. He never knew. And yet, here he was; a wolf in sheep's clothing. He stepped out onto the marble floors of the Ministry as Blaise Zabini from the Records and Bookkeeping Sector.

Blaise was just walking into his office when he was stopped by a man calling out his name. "Oi, Blaise! Feeling better?" Randle asked. He was a stout middle-aged man with a thick mustache and a shaven head to accent it. He leaned against the doorjamb of the cramped common area, waiting for a response.

"Yeah," Blaise answered. "Thanks."

"No problem. There's a pile waiting for you at your desk. Try not to throw a fit," Randle laughed, his potbelly shaking.

"Charming," Blaise muttered under his breath, closing the door behind him. Sure enough, the pile was right where it was supposed to be, scattered all along the desk.

After a few hours of fumbling about, he had figured out some of the details of Blaise's job. Departments came to him searching for comparison of records. He had to compile them in a meaningful manner and hand it back to the departments. Easier said than done, he soon learned. The records were often so random and disorganized that he had a pounding headache at the mere thought of sorting through all the data and pulling out the appropriate ones.

To pull the records from the library and storage, Blaise needed to send his order in as a flying note to the librarian. They would charm the documents onto Blaise's desk and he would set about rewriting some of the information into new parchments and highlighting the important details. This was the desk job that every man and woman loathed. For good reason too, he felt. His hands were cramping and his eyes were crossing after five hours. Thank goodness he had a job to focus on. If not, he would go out of his mind looking at the numbers and names.

Being his first day and all, he started with something small – a list of all Azkaban prisoners at present. While it was a small feat for the librarian to send back, it was a huge accomplishment for the Dark Army. If they could get a full list of prisoner names, who was to say that they couldn't get a list of prisoner crimes, rates, and sentences? Blaise scanned the list as he felt a sense of pride at a job well done. So, if he managed to pilfer one record per day, the Dark Army would be swimming in previously unknown prison files and court transcripts.

Draco showed the list to his uncles. Both appeared impressed. "Was it difficult?" Rodolphus asked.

"About as difficult as writing a letter to the librarian to fetch it for me," Draco said with a bored flick of his hand.

The brother laughed. "Very well done, Draco. We're so pleased," Rabastan said, patting Draco's shoulder. "Do you think it will be difficult to get us the information?"

"Well, I don't think I should meet you everyday," Draco explained. "Just in case someone's watching. That is highly improbable, though. But I don't want to take any chances. So perhaps we can arrange a meeting once a week?"

"Once a week would work perfectly."

* * *

><p>Blaise was shrugging on his coat and about to leave for the day when he heard a knock on the door. Before he could reach it, it opened. His heart plummeted nauseatingly when he recognized the man to be Harry Potter, Head Auror and named the most feared detective in recent history. If it had been the seventeen-year-old Harry Potter who was standing before him, he would have made light of the situation. But this man exuded authority. Finally comfortable in his own skin and his place in the work order, he wore his robe and badge well, as though he deserved them and so much more. In fact, he had put nearly half of the Dark Army in Azkaban all by himself.<p>

And for the past four years, Harry Potter had been hunting Draco Malfoy with all his resources.

"Leaving early?"

Blaise. Right. He pulled himself up to his full height, shaking out of his morbid musings. He was going to live another day, apparently. "Potter," he said out of habit, realizing too late that he had no idea what Blaise's relationship with Harry was.

"Zabini," Harry said with a faint smile. "You never got me those results."

"I've been sick," Blaise said smoothly. There had been nothing in Blaise's pending paperwork that had anything to do with the Auror service. He hadn't even known that he would have to deal with Potter personally.

"Hmm," Harry tsked. "It's fine. I'll get Julie to do it. You can go," he dismissed, leaving Blaise to collect his wits in the cramped office.

It made Draco's blood boil to hear Potter talk to him that way. He clenched his fists, willing himself to calm down. Potter had always managed to do this to him, make him strike without thinking. No more. He wouldn't let Harry Potter pull him away from his mission.

* * *

><p>After seeing Potter the week before, it seemed as though Blaise saw him <em>everywhere<em> now. Walking into the Ministry from the Floo Network, he walked by the Head Auror. Sidling past the lines of repeat offenders, he finds himself walking behind Harry. Waiting for the record keeper at the library, he saw Harry at the table with his head bent over books.

He was worried because he knew how closely Harry had been studying his mannerisms. All through school, they had been at each other's throats, trying to find the next new button to push to make the other snap. Harry knew all of Draco's habits and moves. Draco's line of thought was often so transparent that Harry could be ten steps in front of him when things boiled down to it. In some ways, Harry was just as transparent. It was the reason they hated each other's guts.

Draco wondered how long it would be before Harry realized that something was amiss. Behind frameless glasses sat sharp emerald eyes Draco loved to loath with all his might. Perhaps all it would take was one hard look for Draco's disguise to fall apart.

Draco liked challenges.

He also liked to get lost in his thoughts, apparently. He didn't even notice the rather surly and nervous looking man until he bumped into the solid wall of muscle. "Excuse me," he muttered, shifting the teetering piles of books to his other hand as he tried to move past the man.

"Ah've bin waitin' here f' two hours!" the man growled. "How much longer?"

"I'm not sure," Blaise said, glancing at the service desk. "I don't work in this depar-"

"Ah don't care!" the man said loudly. To be fair, he looked more like a miniature troll than a man. "Ah need ta see the official. Now."

"You need to wait y-"

"Don't you give me lip," he snapped. "Tell 'em I need to see the official or else I'mma walk. Ya hear me?"

Blaise huffed indignantly. This was going nowhere. "I'll let them know," he lied, once again trying to move past the man.

"You're a piss poor liar, boy," the man sneered, grabbing Blaise by the collar. The books came crashing to the ground as he staggered forward. All conversation around them dropped.

"Put me down," Blaise said in a controlled tone.

"Or what?" the man asked.

"Sir, I'm asking you to let go of me," Blaise ordered with a deadly glare.

The man whipped out a wand from his pocket, training it at Blaise and receiving plenty of gasps and yelps of terror around him. He smiled triumphantly, digging the wand into Blaise's chest.

"You're supposed to leave this at the front desk," Blaise snapped, snatching the wand out of the man's hand. "How much of an imbecile are you?"

"I'll take it from here, Mr. Zabini."

Blaise was released in an instant and he stumbled back, righting himself with failing arms. The loud man, who had looked utterly perplexed when his wand was gone, was now pale as a ghost when he was faced with Harry. Although the Head Auror was considerably slighter, his grim expression could quell any man. "Do we have a problem here?" Potter asked quietly.

"He took mah wand," the man said stupidly, pointing to Blaise.

Harry glanced back at Blaise, eyes shadowed by a blank screen. He held his hand out and Blaise handed the wand to him, furiously chiding himself in his mind. Harry held the wand and raised a brow at the offender. "And may I ask why you have your wand on you?" he questioned.

"Ah forgot," the man mumbled, a lame excuse, if there ever was one.

"We do not take kindly to assault on Ministry employees, understand?" Harry asked, his tone implying that if the man didn't understand, his life could be made difficult.

"Mhm, mhm," the man nodded quickly.

"Good," Harry said. "This will be waiting for you at the front desk," he added, indicating to the wand. "Now I will have to ask you to stand in line and wait your turn." Without waiting for an answer, he gestured at Blaise to follow him as he strode out of the Law Enforcement office. Blaise let out a frustrated snarl and flicked his wand at the fallen books to make a pile. He weaved through the crowd before he could lose Potter.

He found Harry standing at the end of the hall, by the elevators. Harry didn't turn around until Blaise was beside him. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?" the Auror asked quietly.

"Hmm," Blaise said, not caring what Harry thought.

"There were civilians present," Harry continued. "That man is highly unstable. You saw that, didn't you?"

"What did you expect me to do? Wait to be hexed?" Blaise asked, now meeting Harry's steely gaze.

"Yes," Harry said simply. "If that's what it takes to stop him, then yes."

Draco quelled the urge to strangle Harry. "Whatever," he muttered, done with the conversation.

"That was strike two, Zabini."

Blaise's stomach clenched. "What?" he asked.

"One more foul up and you're gone," Harry said with finality.

"By what right?" Blaise exclaimed. "You can't fire me!" He had read up on the hierarchy and chain of commands. Auror sector had no business being involved with Record keeping except to extract information.

"I can fire you just as easily as I can hire a new staff member. I'm sure I have no fewer than ten applicants sitting on my desk. You're on thin ice," Harry threatened.

This was a side of Potter Draco had never seen before. This Potter was cold and professional. Draco held his tongue. Ten weeks. Just keep a low profile for ten more weeks. Stay out of Potter's way and keep infiltrating deeper and deeper into the files until what the Ministry has, the Dark Army has as well. Evade all high traffic areas of the Ministry. Arrive early, leave late. Don't speak, don't ask, don't look. Just finish the job.

"Are you hurt?"

Draco jerked out of his thoughts, brows arching up as he looked at Harry. "What?" he asked, perplexed.

"Did he hurt you?" Harry asked.

_This_ was the Potter Draco knew and hated – always worried and selfless. It was all an act. Draco could never figure out why Potter kept the façade up. "No," he said curtly.

"Well… that was really stupid," Harry said as the elevator pinged, going up. "Really stupid and impressive." He glanced back at Blaise with a smile, the doors sliding shut and shooting away a second later. Blaise's lips curled up in disgust.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco was in bed, laying on his side with his arm outstretched. He absently sketched the faint green Dark Mark with his nail.

The process had been painful and frightening. He had felt as though he were being branded as a slave. But he had wanted to be accepted into the Inner Circle with such conviction that he was willing to mar his body for it. He was willing to bleed for it.

He had tried scratching his skin raw, flaying his arm, anything to get rid of it.

But now he caressed it. It was his scar. It was his badge and his life. It was a part of him he should never forget. The Dark Mark had taught him many things.

It was so easy to control a man. So easy and so terrifyingly powerful.

Draco wondered what that felt like. He wondered what it would be like to be Lord Voldemort.

* * *

><p>Blaise was on his way out when he bumped into Harry again. He nearly groaned in dismay. Instead, he greeted Harry with a small nod, ready to sidestep the man. Harry was faster, anticipating the move and stepping in front of Blaise's path. "What?" Blaise snapped.<p>

"You aren't going home, are you?" Harry asked. He knew the answer was yes, but Draco knew that he had asked that question because he wanted something more.

"What do you need?" Blaise asked.

Harry smiled wanly. "You're the last one here so… I was looking for a crosscheck on three databases. It should only take ten minutes," he said.

Blaise turned around without another word and opened the door to the office, letting Potter in. Harry glanced at the impeccable filing cabinets and desk with a critical eye. "Rather… neat, aren't you?" he asked.

"Helps me find things," Blaise murmured, pulling out a parchment from his desk. Uncapping his inkwell, he waited for Harry to continue.

"Right," Harry shook out of his musings. "Start with a listing of property tax forms from the past decade. Then I want it crosschecked with accidental magic reports from the past decade. And then compare that with the soft criminals from the past three decades."

Blaise slumped in his seat.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Okay, so maybe that'd take a couple of hours," he said.

"Can't I just do it tomorrow?" Blaise asked as he wrote with vehemence, nearly tearing the fiber of the parchment with his quill.

"I need it for tonight. Preferably in the next four hours," Harry said.

Blaise tsked, shaking his head. "Fine," he said.

"Get those to my desk before ten," Harry said. "Thank you." He left before Blaise could throw a sharp insult at him.

It took him the better part of three hours to get everything done. While Blaise might have been effective, Draco was just starting to learn the tricks of the trade. He was tired as hell and snappy by the time he got the results and dropped them on Harry's desk. Harry leafed through it quickly, scanning the names that were highlighted. "Took you longer than I expected," he commented.

If there was something Draco knew about Harry, it was that the man never commented to anyone but his friends. So _this_ comment was not a comment at all. Harry wanted Blaise to justify himself because he knew that it didn't usually take him this to finish his report. Meanwhile, Draco wanted to pull his hair out. If he had known that he would be working for Potter, he would have outright refused to do the job. It was too dangerous and Potter knew him too well. "Guess I'm not used to working for this long in one go," he said instead of screaming profanities.

"Oh?" Harry looked up at Blaise. "When did you get here?"

"Six," Blaise replied.

Harry's eyes narrowed a hint. "You weren't scheduled for work until ten."

"And I came to work at six," Blaise reiterated, staring at Harry blankly.

Harry shook his head, his expression betraying his frustration. "If you're half asleep on the job, how do I know _this_ is accurate?" he asked, throwing the parchment down with an exasperated click of his tongue.

Blaise felt his stomach twist with anger. "_This_," he spat out, "took three hours to build. How dare you toss it about like it's worthless garbage? My time is _not_ worthless, understand?"

Harry appeared stricken, which made Draco slightly nervous. He had been expecting a verbal lash similar to his. Instead, all Potter did was look at him. Apparently Blaise had never dared to talk like that to Harry. Who would? There was nobody who could challenge the Head Auror's authority but the Minister himself. And even him Harry had wrapped around his finger. Draco couldn't help wondering if this was his strike three. Harry blinked at Blaise, a familiar unimpressed and blank mask over his eyes once again. "Don't raise your voice at your superior, Zabini," he said quietly.

Superior? Blaise's jaw dropped at the insolence. "How dare you!" he exclaimed. "Superior? You are no more my superior than you are a fully certified Auror! You didn't even pass your exams!"

Then there was sudden silence. Draco couldn't believe what he had just said. Raising his voice at Potter was no way to keep a low profile.

Harry laughed incredulously. "Really?" he asked in disbelief. "I assure you, I'm fully qualified to be an Auror. Would they make me Head Auror for no apparent reason?"

The laugh only managed to irritate Draco even more. He had to get out of there before he started spewing more verbal jibes at Potter. "Can I go now?" he asked, consciously keeping his tone bland.

"Hmm," Harry smiled at the purportedly inaccurate report on his desk. "Not much else you can do now, is there? So you can go," he said, dismissing Blaise. He stormed off, his hand clutching his wand tight enough to leave marks against his palm.

* * *

><p>The insistent knocking on the door brought Draco back to the present. He put down the notes he had been reading with a tired sigh. He had tried ignoring the racket but five minutes was a little excessive, he figured. He quickly downed his potion and tidied himself up. Then he made his way to the foyer and unlocked the door.<p>

It shot open before Blaise could turn the knob. He was slammed against the wall and kissed into silence.

Instead of letting himself be dragged into his instinctual urge to throw the body off of him, he remained calm, kissing the lips that were coaxing his. He had his wand already at hand but he held it behind his back, wrapping his other arm around the thin hips. It was a woman by the feel of it, soft body and sweet taste.

"I know I said we should stop but I-" Ginny's voice cracked with emotion. "Just… I need you, Blaise. Now. Please?"

"Okay," Blaise whispered, more alert than ever now. Ginevra Weasley was kissing him with insurmountable passion. Why wasn't this in Blaise's portfolio? How long had they been seeing each other? And what about her and Potter? "What about Potter?" he asked carefully.

Ginny buried her face against the crook of Blaise's neck. "I broke up with him. I just broke up with him because… because of you. So… don't send me away. Please, don't send me away," she begged, holding onto him for dear life.

"I won't. I'm not going to," he said soothingly, his thoughts working. "You can stay. Tell me what happened." He needed to know what happened so he knew about Potter.

Draco had never meant to go after Potter. It was too dangerous. He was nearly always surrounded by law enforcement teams, both during assignments and at leisure. But, after spending a few minutes with the Head Auror, Draco got the impression that perhaps Potter wasn't so hard to handle after all. With Ginny having abandoned him and most probably causing a rift between friends, the timing was perfect.

Everything was fitting into place and it was absolutely perfect.

Blaise hugged Ginny close, comforting her. _This_ was what he needed. Potter's precious girl.

"Tell me everything," he whispered.

* * *

><p>It took Ginny nearly two hours of rambling and crying before she would allow Blaise to leave her side. And that too because she had fallen asleep. Draco realized that he would have to start taking his Polyjuice potion at nighttime too now. Part of the job, he supposed.<p>

From what he had gathered, Ginny and Blaise had been having frequent affairs for years now. Draco couldn't help wondering how Harry was so oblivious. Or perhaps he had already guessed that she was being unfaithful but was too afraid to ask. Either way, Ginny's relationship with Blaise had been purely physical until recently.

Why would she leave Potter?

Draco had to find out.

Blaise was dead. It was as simple as that. And Ginny would never know that. His body was already gone and what was left of him was going into Polyjuice potions until eleven weeks later when that too would disappear. What would she be left with then?

Draco supposed she would go groveling back to Potter. And Potter would take her again, being the desperate man that he is.

Blaise smirked while tidying up his work that was scattered on the table. He couldn't wait to see Potter the next day.

* * *

><p>Harry was looking worse for the wear. He didn't even acknowledge Blaise when they passed each other. Lost in his thoughts, Harry appeared to be the epitome of a man pining for his lost love.<p>

Blaise didn't have to convince Ginny about keeping their 'relationship' a secret. She had suggested it herself. She said that she didn't want to embarrass Harry by revealing her affair. But Draco knew that the real reason she wanted to keep everything under lock and key was because she was embarrassed for herself. If the press were to catch wind of this, she would be made the evil wench while Harry would be the sorrowful prince who wanted nothing more than to make his true love happy.

It was enough to nauseate Draco.

They agreed to meet in secret and only at nighttime. This was completely agreeable with Draco's schedule. And he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he was looking forward to those nighttime visits. Ginny was a gorgeous woman – ample body, full lips, tall, elegant. Sure she was a blood traitor, but that didn't really matter to him anymore. To him, everyone he met was a traitor. He didn't discriminate based on blood status or allegiance any longer.

Yes, he was violating Ginny. Yes, he was violating her trust. But he had no use for her other than to make her a pawn and a playmate.

And now it was time to throw Potter a bone.

"See these names over here?" Blaise said, running his finger down the list. "Those are the ones with the highest suspicious activity."

"Mhm," Harry murmured, scribbling a note on the margin.

"These are their last known locations," Blaise continued, flipping the page to show Harry.

"Is there a list of charges for the criminals?" Harry asked.

"Yes. On the last page. Most of them have been tried at some point or another. And I think all but two have broken parole," Blaise said.

"Hmm," Harry sighed. "Alright. Anything else?" He turned to Blaise.

He pretended to hesitate, opening his mouth a hint before quickly shaking his head. "No, nothing else," he said.

"What is it?" Harry asked, appearing interested.

Blaise shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I… um… I couldn't help noticing that you… you don't look all that great," he said with an apologetic smile. "That's all."

"Oh," Harry murmured.

"Is something wrong?" Blaise asked.

Harry kept his eyes on the report. "No. Nothing," he said.

"Okay," Blaise said, leaving it at that. He knew he had just intrigued Harry with the concerned questioned. That's what he wanted. He wanted to lure Harry in, not seek him out.


	4. Chapter 4

With a soft sigh, Blaise kissed Ginny ardently. They moved in unison, fingers tangling in hair and pressing against backs. Buried in lust, they made love for hours. Ginny's crooning rang in his ears as he took her over crest after crest, never stopping. To Ginny, the hands that caressed her did not feel like Blaise's touch at all. Blaise was forceful, borderline sadistic, when it came to sex. This was soft and never ending. This was forever.

"I love you," she whispered as they watched the sun rise from the window. They were drenched in sweat, limbs tangled together and lips pressed against skin. "I love you so much," she sighed blissfully, falling asleep in Blaise's arms.

"Hmm," he murmured, resting his chin against her fiery head of hair as he worked through all the things he had to do for that day. Having already pilfered information from the surface, he was going to have to start digging deeper. That meant higher clearance and more checks and balances that he needed to bypass.

He felt sweat trickle down his back and he squirmed with distaste. He eased out of Ginny's grip and padded to the bathroom. He was going to have to take a Pepper-Up if he wanted to stay awake.

He was gone before she woke up.

* * *

><p>"God damn it," Harry swore as the contents of the folder came crashing down and scattering onto the floor.<p>

Blaise knelt beside him and started gathering the parchment. "You alright?" he asked.

"Do I look alright?" Harry snapped. He pulled back after he finished, grimacing. "I-sorry," he apologized. "I'm fine…"

"Hmm," Blaise murmured, not commenting further. As he pushed the piles of papers together, he noticed the name on it. Bellatrix Lestrange. Then he read the words surrounding it.

_… psychiatric evaluation scheduling of Bellatrix Lestrange has been postponed to…_

He froze in shock. The date was a month from that day.

But… Bellatrix was dead… Wasn't she?

"I've just had a tough week," Harry sighed, pushing the documents into the folder. He took the papers from Blaise's unresponsive hand, apparently not noticing the aghast look. "Thank you," he said, getting up. Blaise got up after him, keeping his eyes from straying to the file. Harry smiled weakly before sidestepping Blaise and walking away.

But Bellatrix was dead…

She had been dead for thirteen years now.

* * *

><p>All records indicated that Bellatrix Lestrange was, for all intents and purposes, deceased. Molly Weasley's spell, although not a Killing Curse, had struck Bellatrix dead in front of the Dark Army. It had driven Lord Voldemort wild. Her corpse was buried in the cemetery kept by the court. The papers had displayed images of her, complete with a mask of death. Try as he might, Draco could find no files that hinted that she was still alive and in custody.<p>

Had the date on the document been an error in processing? A simple slip of the hand? He needed to find out more.

And more meant that he needed to get into the Head Auror's office. He needed to see that file.

* * *

><p>Blaise knocked on Potter's door twice before opening it. He didn't quite hear the 'just a second' that Harry had said. So he found himself getting an eyeful of a rather shirtless Auror. Harry was sitting on the floor in front of a full-length mirror he had conjured. Blaise noticed a scattering of medical supplies around the man and a long strip of bandage down his back.<p>

Harry glanced up, raising a brow. "I said just a second, didn't I?" he asked.

"I didn't hear you," Blaise said distantly, a slow frown dawning on his face.

Harry smiled, shaking his head. "It's fine. What did you need?" he asked, grabbing his shirt and sliding his sleeves in with a slight wince.

"What's this?" Blaise asked, moving towards Harry and kneeling down so he could inspect the medications that were on the floor.

"Work," Harry said simply.

"Why are you doing this yourself?" Blaise murmured, picking up the ointment pod. It looked like a topical poison antidote. Another one seemed to be a burn medication. "The nurses are three floors down."

"I already went," Harry said uncomfortably. "I was just about to re-dress the wound."

"Oh…" Blaise said. Then he became aware of the file in his hand. "This is the latest I have," he added, handing it to Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said.

"Mhm," Blaise nodded, reading the labels on the salves and creams.

Harry waited for a minute, watching Blaise with slight perplexity. When it became apparent that the man was not about to leave, Harry started saying, "You can g-"

But he was interrupted when Blaise said, "Show me."

"Oh, er… th-the wound?" Harry blushed.

"Let's see," Blaise said, tugging at Harry's shirt. Harry complied uncertainly, shrugging off his shirt. The bandage started at Harry's collarbone and ran down his shoulder to the middle of his back. "You can't do this on your own," Blaise noted.

"Sure I can," Harry argued otherwise.

"Hmm," Blaise didn't press further. He tried peeling a corner off, grimacing when he saw the bruised skin surrounding the invisible stitches that held Harry's skin together. "This looks serious. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"It's fine," Harry brushed off, giving off the impression that his doctors didn't know that their patient wasn't eating chicken noodle soup while reading a book.

"What happened?" Blaise asked.

"Can't tell you," Harry answered.

Blaise nodded, slowly lifting away the gauze and bandages to reveal the irritated skin underneath. "Does that hurt?" he asked.

"No," Harry said, hiding his smile by turning his head down.

"But this might, okay?" Draco warned as he squeezed a healthy dose of ointment onto a gauze pad and pressed it against Harry's skin.

Harry hissed, swearing breathlessly as he gritted his teeth. Then he lurched forward when he felt cold air being blown onto his overheating skin. "Wh-what?" he stammered. Blaise pulled Harry back to him, gently breathing onto the wound. Then pressed the gauze to the next section, feeling Harry flex with pain before relaxing when he felt the air cooling him. "What are you doing?" Harry asked, feeling oddly breathless.

"The antidote heats your skin a lot," Blaise murmured. "It burns more than it really should. So Mother said that if y-" He stopped, his breath catching. He flicked his eyes up unconsciously, meeting Harry's gaze. He quickly looked back at Harry's skin, swallowing. That was a little too much to say. He wasn't supposed to spill the beans. He was just supposed to get on Potter's good side.

"Your mother said what?" Harry asked gently.

"It's nothing. Just a way to get rid of the heat," Blaise said, pressing the medication onto Harry's wound before blowing cold air onto it.

"What did your mother say?"

Blaise looked up at Harry again. He saw the expectant nod. Harry was truly interested in knowing. "She said if you blow on the wound, it'd go away. She said it was magic," Draco said with the ghost of a smile. "It isn't really. The cold just takes your mind off of the pain, that's all."

Harry nodded, looking down at his lap and fumbling with his fingers. "Okay. It's working," he said, sounding more like a child than a Head Auror.

Draco worked at an easy pace so as not to overwhelm Harry with torturous pain. Once he finished with the antidote, he started the burn salve. "This should feel better," he murmured as he squeezed a small amount onto the tips of his fingers and worked it along the edge of the cut. Dressing a wound was one thing. Touching Potter's skin while it was horrifying disfigured was another thing entirely. He tried to keep his look of revulsion away. "How long did they say you should rest for?" he asked.

Harry grimaced with guilt. "A week," he confessed.

Draco knew all about Harry's aversion to hospitals. Both Harry and Draco had seen a little too much of the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey. Harry would be groveling and clambering to get out of there as soon as his sling was all tidied up. "Gauze," Draco said.

As Harry handed it over, he asked. "So… where did you learn to dress wounds?"

"It's something everyone should know," Draco answered.

"I'd wager not half the Mediwizards know how to do it well," Harry countered.

"Quidditch," Draco said concisely.

Harry seemed to like that answer. "Yeah," he smiled. "Me too."

Draco rolled the sticky bandage up to Harry's shoulder and then scooted over to the front so he could finish up. He pressed the end of the bandage against the side of Harry's neck and pressed his wand tip to it, fastening it so it wouldn't fall off until it was time for the next dressing. "Anything else?" he asked, conjuring a wet cloth to wipe his hands while waiting for Harry to respond.

"You didn't even have to do that, Blaise. That was awkward as hell," Harry laughed with a thankful shake of his head. "Nothing else."

Draco got up, hands still hidden under the wet cloth as his skin crawled. That was one of the most disgusting things he had done. "That's my apology," he said and, with a curt nod, strode away.

Harry pressed his hand to his neck, feeling the edge of the bandage. He smiled abruptly, shaking his head at his musings. He grabbed his shirt and tugged it on. Then his brows started to furrow as he touched his bandage again. He looked up at the closed door, tilting his head in confusion.

* * *

><p>Blaise found Ginny waiting for him when he got home late. Neither spoke, falling into bed with tangled tongues and wandering hands.<p>

He was awake late at night, arms looped around Ginny but his mind on the events of the day. Especially Potter. So now they were on speaking terms. All Draco needed was an opportunity. That's what Slytherins did best – make use of opportunities. He had told no one of the words he had read, of his misgivings on Bellatrix's death. He needed to be sure.

He cast away those thoughts. He was losing focus. He blinked down at Ginny. Starting with Weaslette, Draco was slowly diverging from his goal. He needed to set things straight. He examined Ginny's shape for a short while. Maybe he could set things straight closer to his deadline. He rather liked this arrangement. No talking, just sex. And just sex with a respectable woman, not a two pence tramp. Although Draco supposed anyone who wanted Blaise for sex was a two pence tramp.

He closed his eyes. He needed at least four hours of sleep if he needed to function. He buried his face against the crook of Ginny's neck, lulled to sleep by her breath.

* * *

><p>"What is this I hear?" Rabastan asked quietly, an amused lilt to his tone. "You found yourself a girl?"<p>

Draco rolled his eyes. "Blaise found himself a girl. If it weren't for your incomplete report, I wouldn't have to deal with her, would I?' he asked.

"You couldn't possibly be complaining," the man winked.

"I'd never complain," Draco said with heavy undertones.

"Who is she?" Rabastan added.

"Potter's," Draco said.

Rabastan's eyes widened. "Wait. _Potter_?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes. Ginevra Weasley. Works for the Prophet," Draco said.

"This is big, Draco," Rabastan said with an incredulous laugh. "We can do so much with this!"

"Figured I'd keep her around," Draco said, unaffected by his uncle's enthusiasm.

"Of course you will," Rabastan snickered, shaking his head at his nephew.

* * *

><p>Blaise tilted his head questioningly when he read the note that had just flown into his office.<p>

_Going out for drinks with some people. Join us?  
>Harry<em>

He tapped his quill against the words.

_Yes_, he wrote before flicking his wand at the parchment and sending it on its way.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco refused to touch alcohol. And he had enough restraint to hold himself away even when it was offered. The pub was crawling with the kind of people Draco refused to come into physical contact with. So Blaise found himself seated beside Harry, a table between the men and the rest of the bar patrons. Nursing a flagon of pumpkin juice, he kept a close ear on Harry, ready to snag any word that left the Auror.

Potter seemed to be rather occupied with his thoughts, however. Neither man had spoken since arriving at the pub. All of Potter's work friends, who happened to be Aurors as well, were mingling amongst themselves. This left Blaise with Harry.

"Not much of a drink," Harry said, pointing at the juice.

"Seems you're drinking for the two of us," Blaise said, jerking his thumb at the empty glasses of firewhiskey.

Harry laughed humorlessly. "Who said you couldn't drown your sorrows in alcohol? It seems to be working wonderfully for me," he muttered.

The statement put Blaise's teeth on edge. To Harry, sorrow meant being dumped by a girl? How utterly sheltered was this man? He didn't say anything, keeping his comments to himself. "How's your back?" he asked instead.

"Fine," Harry said, a lie as always.

Blaise didn't challenge him. "Want to tell me what's on your mind, then?" he asked, turning to Harry.

"Not particularly," Harry said.

"You'd rather drink?"

"It's easier," Harry smiled bitterly, swirling the drink against the table.

Blaise pushed the glass away with his finger. "There is no need to be a child about this," he said reasonably.

"Ginny left."

Blaise bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the abrupt confession. "She did?" he said mildly.

"You don't seem the least bit surprised," Harry said, leaning back on his seat and folding his arms against his chest.

"You two haven't been in the papers lately," Blaise explained. "I figured you had broken up already. Didn't know it just happened."

Harry didn't speak. Blaise glanced at him. The Auror looked pensive, memorizing the grains on the wooden tabletop with his jaw set. Blaise decided to press on. "So… it's over? Just like that?" he asked.

"Just like that," Harry said, looking up at Blaise.

They held their gaze, warm emerald against cold onyx. Draco wondered what Harry saw when he observed Blaise. Did he see the mask? Could he see the fierce mercury that hid underneath?

Urgent breaths and cold hands seared him. Their shirts came off at the same moment. Pressed together from chest to hip, they fell into bed. Harry arched up as his back sent spasms of shock up his body. Blaise shoved him back down and worked his pants off. Harry tried to struggle away but was immobilized as Blaise prepared him with fumbling fingers. No words passed between them. Harry's hips were raised and his feet dug into the sheets. One low moan from the shivering man and Blaise lost his patience. He unzipped himself and, with a soundless lubrication spell, entered Harry.

Harry let out a pained scream, his body bowed and limbs taut. Draco felt a surge of power as he rose over Harry, knowing he was the reason Potter screamed. Harry was feeling pain because of him. There were no kisses, only bruising fingers and biting teeth. The struggling was intermittent, as though Harry was trying to fight but kept forgetting. Blaise held him captive against the bed, ignoring the tears and breathless gasps. The skin around the Auror's wound could hardly handle the movement, easily opening up. Harry held onto Blaise as they fought against each other while joined in the most intimate way. Draco gave him torture, interlacing it with small flutters of pleasure. It felt as though eons had passed before Harry fell unconscious. He was riddled with marks as he went limp against the soiled sheets, faint from the alcohol and sex.

Draco hovered over Harry, holding himself up on his hands and knees as he panted. "Fuck," he swore furiously, raising his fist to hit Harry. He struck the pillow beside Harry's head instead. Blood dotted the white silk. Once pure, the sheets were sullied now. Draco turned Harry over. Blood flowed from the wound that had reopened. Draco smeared the vile liquid across Harry's back, his face twisted into a mask of fury.

He slid out of bed, leaving Harry in the mess. He saw nothing but red. Red as the blood on his hands. Next thing he knew, he was in Potter's study. The file. He had to find the file. He laid waste to the office, searching and coming up empty. Nothing. He threw parchment after folder onto the floor, scrambling to find the least bit of useful information. There were no fucking leads in there. With a roar of anger, he swept his hands over the desk and sent everything crashing to the floor.

And the one thing left on the desk?

A diamond engagement ring.

"Malfoy."

Draco turned around at the soft whisper. The last thing he saw was Harry's emerald eyes so close to him.

Blaise jerked awake, falling. He was sweating under the sheets. He tried to push it away, finding himself horribly tangled in them. He stilled when a hand pressed against his chest. He turned, expecting Ginny. Finding Harry…

Harry clenched his hand into a fist, raking his fingers over Blaise's skin as he did so. Without his glasses, Harry looked less like a thirty year old and more like a lost child. Blaise felt his skin prickle in aversion, wanting to push away from this man he didn't even know anymore. He couldn't believe what he had done. It had felt like non-consensual sex. Rape. And afterwards… why had there been an engagement ring? Where was Bellatrix's file? What happened to the blood?

Harry's emerald eyes were so close to him. Blaise felt Harry's clean breath against his, slowly quickening.

He rolled away from Potter, sitting up with his back turned. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes before getting up.

Harry reached out and clutched Blaise's wrist, stopping him.

Blaise's heart leapt to his throat.

He had just earned Harry's trust. Harry was willing to reveal his vulnerability so openly now.

Harry was Draco's now.

Blaise looked back. Harry was sitting up with the white silk pooled around his waist. His chest and stomach had scattered bruises and half-healed cuts on them, bite marks and imprint of nails. Blaise inspected Harry silently. He started to slide his hand out of Harry's grip.

Harry glided his fingers down and entwined it with Blaise's.

In synchrony, they moved – Harry inhaling sharply as he sunk into bed and Blaise exhaling as he lunged forward, knees on the bed and arms holding him up. A hint of fear in Potter's eyes complemented the determination. Blaise could almost hear Harry's beating heart as he stared at the rapid fluttering pulse against the man's neck. Harry recovered from the fright, slowly sitting up on his elbows. Blaise didn't back away.

Harry tilted his head, his breath ragged. He parted his mouth and slid his tongue over the inviting collarbone. Emboldened by the lack of retaliation, Harry flicked his tongue over the crook of Blaise's neck. Then he bit down harshly, a small revenge for what had been done to him. He let go and laid back down, waiting for the next move.

Blaise brushed his fingers over his irritated skin, feeling the saliva and heat. What did Potter want?

Whatever it was, Draco couldn't give it to him.

Harry watched without protest while Blaise moved away and out of the bed. He dressed unhurriedly, turned away from Harry. Then he left without a backward glance.

* * *

><p>Draco was stretched out on his sofa. Staring up at the ceiling, he was trying to meditate. He was making mistakes. He was making mistakes for the sake of making them. No more.<p>

He needed focus. And Potter was making him lose it. Focus on completing the task. Be impersonal and never get emotionally involved. Besides, he had no emotions to give, did he? He would not allow himself to drown in his anger any more. He didn't need anger in his life. He needed control. Anger made him lose control. Whatever Potter did to him in his previous life was meaningless now. Use Potter. Don't abuse him.

Do whatever needs to be done, but nothing more. There will be plenty of time to make Potter suffer later. Not now. Not yet. Draco still needed him.

With a cleared and refreshed mind, Draco mended himself into a flawless character once again. Blaise Zabini.

* * *

><p>"Tell me why you broke up with Potter," Blaise murmured, twirling Ginny's hair between his hands.<p>

"Because of you," she answered with a soft kiss to his heart.

"Tell me why you broke up with him," Blaise repeated.

Ginny looked up at him, trying to read his thoughts. "Why are you talking like this?" she asked quietly. "You never used to."

"Now I want to," he said. "I know it's not because of me."

"But I-"

"And I'm not offended," he interrupted before she could hurriedly justify herself. "I'm just curious."

"Curious?" Ginny echoed to herself. Draco let her think over an appropriate response, continuing to tease her hair. They almost never spoke. And whenever they did, it was about Potter. Draco wondered if Ginny noticed. "He's… scary," she said.

Scary. Now there's an adjective he had never heard anyone use about Harry. Not even criminals found him scary. Formidable, yes. Scary, no. "He doesn't look scary to me," Blaise said with an encouraging smile.

"Not scary like that," Ginny said, her words muffled as she pressed against Blaise. "He… feels too much. And I couldn't handle it. He knows me too well. He sees through me. I couldn't even hold a proper conversation with him after three years. I was too scared to. It was like he knew everything I was thinking."

"And that's scary?" Blaise asked.

"You've never lived with him, so you don't know. He's consumed by his work. He brings it home with him. I couldn't stand it. Being an Auror has changed him." She sighed sorrowfully. "He used to be sweet and young and always so lost. But now…"

"He grew up," Blaise finished.

"I guess I didn't want him to," she said heavily. "I know I'm being selfish for thinking that. He's not the Boy-Who-Lived anymore. Now that part of his life is done and he's moving on. He moved on without asking me."

"You're such a romantic," he chuckled, pressing a kiss to Ginny's cheek.

"And you are the sweetest guy ever," she grinned. "Love you," she said, closing her eyes.

"Love you," Blaise repeated absently.

He had brought out the lost Potter that night. He had brought out the Boy-Who-Lived. He had seen the imperfect Harry that Ginny had fallen for. _That_ was the man Draco needed to speak to. Not the Head Auror. Not the most powerful man, trumped only by the Minister. Not the Dark Army's mortal enemy. If Draco wanted unlimited access to Harry, it would have to be with the sweet and young and always so lost Harry Potter.

* * *

><p>Blaise knocked on the door, hearing the vague permission to enter. He walked in, watching Harry's expression change from confusion to astonishment and then settling on uncertainty. But he wasn't there to intimidate Potter.<p>

"I'm sorry," he apologized, making sure to put enormous distance between himself and Harry.

Harry's eyes widened a smidge. "Pardon?" he asked, his voice level despite his expression.

"For what I did. I'm sorry," Blaise said.

Harry blinked at Draco. "Oh…"

Draco wondered if Harry was going to say anything more. From the looks of it, the man was struck speechless. Good. He wanted to keep Harry confused. He turned to leave.

"You left a scar."

Blaise glanced back at Harry, tilting his head inquiringly.

"On my back," Harry explained. "It's going to scar."

Draco studied Harry's unreadable expression. "And you don't mind?" Blaise asked. Draco wasn't going to apologize for the scar. He didn't care if Potter's body was scarred.

"You don't care if I'm scarred, do you?" Harry countered.

Blaise kept his expression placid even though he felt the urge to smirk. Was this what Ginny was talking about? Harry had just read his mind. "I don't mind," he answered.

"I don't mind," Harry mirrored.

Blaise nodded once before leaving, satisfied with their cryptic conversation. If Harry wanted to continue, so be it.


	6. Chapter 6

"If I were to say that Aunt Bellatrix was still alive, what would you say?" Draco asked Rodolphus.

The man looked as though he were about to have an aneurism.

"Good," Draco murmured, half-formed plans taking shape in his mind.

* * *

><p>Harry was helping himself to the food in the lounge when he felt hot breath against his neck. Blaise pressed his chest close to Harry's back, wrapping one arm around his waist and cupping the other hand to the Auror's groin. Harry stiffened in response. Anyone could walk in and find the men this way. Blaise started massaging wantonly. Harry tried to break away using half-hearted attempts. Blaise held him tight, working his zipper down.<p>

"Not here," Harry whispered hurriedly.

"Here," Blaise murmured, fingers brushed against Harry's thigh. Harry lolled his head back. His hands landed atop Blaise's, entwining fingers.

Then he twisted, bending the fingers back painfully. In a flurry of movement, Harry was facing Blaise. Their hands were now against Blaise's body, slowly kneading. Harry had a cheeky smirk on his lips. Blaise felt Harry's hand, that was still holding onto his, rubbing against his zipper. He swung his free arm at Harry. Harry countered it with a swift block using his forearm, then grabbing at the wrist and twisting it away.

They were so near each other now. Fiery green met insatiable black.

"Next time," Harry whispered, "I'll fuck you."

Blaise felt a similar smirk filling his lips as he heard Harry's bold challenge. "Next time," he murmured.

Harry let go of him and zipped himself up. He grabbed his lunch from the table and, with a wink, strode out of the room.

Blaise chuckled, shaking his head. "Next time," he repeated.

* * *

><p>The thought struck him out of nowhere. Perhaps it was that dream about the engagement ring that brought everything together. Blaise brushed back Ginny's hair, catching her attention. "If Potter asked you to marry him, would you have said yes?" he asked. She grimaced at the question. Draco supposed he already knew the answer. "Hmm," Blaise nodded. "Then why do you suppose he never asked?"<p>

"I don't know," she answered quietly.

"Maybe it didn't feel right for either of you," Blaise explained.

Ginny shrugged. "We hadn't been intimate in a long time. I mean, the first few years were wonderful. But then, I guess he grew tired of me," she murmured.

"Or you grew tired of him," Blaise finished.

"Or that," she said, lost in thought.

* * *

><p>Harry had his arms around Blaise, foreheads touching. "So…"<p>

Blaise sighed placidly. "So," he repeated.

"Blaise."

Blaise opened his eyes. "Potter," he answered.

A corner of Harry's lips rose. "Zabini," he murmured with a slow hum.

Blaise slid his hands down Harry's curved back, feeling the rippling muscles and strength hidden under them. "Harry," he breathed. He lifted Harry up.

Harry responded by heaving up with his hands on Blaise's shoulders and wrapping his legs around Blaise's waist. "Kiss me?" he asked.

"No," Blaise said.

"Good," Harry whispered as Blaise broke the buttons on his shirt. Harry moaned in anticipation when he felt firm bites on his skin. He jerked with each jolt of pain, gripping Blaise tighter and tighter. They sunk into bed without any more words, just heat between them.

* * *

><p>"Please, don't," the man cried, hands clasped in front of him as he begged for his life.<p>

"Well, if _that_ line worked for the others, they'd be alive now, wouldn't they?" Draco scoffed, his wand unwavering and his stance casual. "Besides, it's not like you have any reason to live now. Do you?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the man sobbed. "I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Draco asked, appearing to be thinking that over. "Hmm… How tempting."

"Yes, I'll tell you everything," the man said eagerly, wiping away his tears so he could see Draco. "I'll tell you anything you want."

"Alright," Draco said, slowly walking up to the man. "How about you tell me… how to get into Azkaban."

The man gaped as his complexion grew waxen in horror. "Why?" he asked as his voice cracked.

"I thought it would be obvious," Draco murmured. "_Crucio_."

A shattering scream filled the room as the man convulsed in agony worse than any he had felt. Draco absently counted to ten before revoking the spell. The man fell limp, sobbing once again. "Please, stop," he pleaded. "Please."

"No," Draco said, as would a child whose mother had just asked him to stop teasing his little sister. "I rather enjoy this. Don't you? _Crucio_."

As the man writhed on the ground, Draco extracted the information he needed quite easily using Legilimency. Then he stopped the spell, letting the man breathe once again. He was no longer sobbing, having taken comfort in the fact that he would be dead soon and in no more pain. He didn't speak, curled up in a pile of devastation as he waited to be murdered.

Draco tsked. "This is hardly fun," he murmured with an irritated sigh. "Aren't you going to beg some more?"

"No," the man whispered.

"Shame," Draco muttered. He flicked his hand at his lackeys, ordering them. "Get rid of this garbage," he said, walking away.

* * *

><p>"Tell me where you got this from," Blaise said, caressing Harry's back with the same delicate touch he used to torture.<p>

Harry exhaled with a tired smile, his eyes closed and his arms binding Blaise to him. "That?" he murmured. "I can't tell you, remember?"

"Where did you get it from?"

Shifting closer, Harry tucked his chin in. "There was a man. He had a knife. I saw him a moment too late," he said.

"Because you were distracted?"

"Because I was distracted," Harry nodded.

"By what?"

Harry opened his eyes, blinking at the dark skin in front of him. "By… thoughts," he whispered. "And that's all I'll ever tell you."

"That's all I want to know," Blaise reassured.

They stayed that way for many minutes. Then Draco decided it was time to leave.

Harry decided otherwise.

"Stay the night?"

Blaise frowned in puzzlement. "Why?" he asked.

"Company," Harry said, pulling Blaise back onto the sheets. "I'm not used to sleeping alone."

"Oh."

"Stay the night?" Harry asked again.

Draco had so much work to do. He needed to compile all the records he had taken out. He needed to finish making the report he was giving his uncles. He needed to take care of Ginny and her needs.

Harry waited for him with innocent eyes that hid so much behind them. Draco craved to know the secrets.

"Okay," Blaise said, getting under the covers again. "I'll stay."

Harry smiled triumphantly, laying his head against Blaise's chest. "Stay."

* * *

><p>Ginny blinked awake as the bed dipped under Blaise's weight. "Where were you?" she asked hoarsely, searching for him with her hand and then clutching his arm.<p>

"Fell asleep at the office. Sorry," he whispered. "Go back to sleep, okay?"

"M'kay," she sighed.

Draco was feeling jittery. There was so much he had to do now. Potter was putty in his hands right now. Stubborn at times, he still melded to Draco's wishes. Although he was confused as to why, he also couldn't believe how easy it was to manipulate the poor man. Ask him a simple question and, be it in riddles or plain words, Harry answered. He was so easy to read, it hurt Draco's ego to think that he had ever felt threatened by Potter. What had the Dark Lord been thinking, attacking the boy with flame and swords? All you needed to do was go after Harry's soft heart. Why not use love as a tool?

With a mere snap of Draco's fingers, Harry should come rushing in.

And then…

Draco shivered in anticipation when he thought of his future.

He'd be unstoppable.

* * *

><p>Blaise was sitting in the library, surrounded by parchments and books. Research. He could get lost in it, if need be. The inner workings of the Ministry were no small feat to study. He didn't know how long he had been at his seat for. All he knew was that when he was jerked out of his notes, it was pitch black outside.<p>

"Boo," Harry whispered, leaning down so his mouth was close to Blaise's ear.

Blaise jumped and whipped around, clutching a hand to his chest. "What the hell, Potter?" he snapped.

"What the hell, Zabini?" Harry laughed, sitting down on the chair next to Blaise. "And what _are_ you doing?" he murmured, pulling out a piece of paper from amidst the files.

"Reading," Blaise scowled, his line of thought escaping him. He dropped his quill with a frustrated click of his tongue. "What do you want?"

"You know," Harry said, tapping a finger to his chin in mock thought. "If you _really_ want to learn more about the Ministry, you could just ask me."

"Yeah, we all know how you _love_ to follow rules," Blaise muttered.

"You need to know the rules to break them," Harry retorted.

Blaise's lips twitched up in response and he flicked his gaze at Harry. "True," he agreed with some reluctance. Harry winked in response. Blaise then sat back as he pondered over the question that had been boggling him since the beginning. "So… two weeks after you're dumped by your girlfriend of fifteen years, you sleep with me. What's up with that?" he asked.

Harry's brows went up slowly. "You want to know _now_?" he asked while keeping his expression unreadable.

"Yes."

Harry drummed his fingers over the table while attempting to answer that question. "I… might be going insane?" he said carefully.

"Or…"

"Or… I guess she and I weren't really all that serious," Harry confessed.

Blaise nodded. "That makes more sense," he said. "And you just happened to be gay?"

"I'm not gay," Harry scoffed.

"Then… you just like to get stuffed up the arse?" Blaise asked, leaning in and smirking.

"Only if it's you."

Blaise pulled back, blinking rapidly. What on Earth... "Um…"

"You," Harry said, pressing a finger to Blaise's chest, "were my first."

"I-I… I knew that," Blaise said, swatting Harry's hand away.

"And _you_," Harry whispered, getting up so he could ghost his lips over Blaise's, "will be my last."

Blaise swallowed hard as Harry chuckled again before leaving.

* * *

><p>Sitting in the musty recess of the storage room, Draco learnt secrets about his family, Voldemort, the Dark Army and trial proceedings. He drank in the words, scanning and copying passages whenever he found them to be important. He learnt about the Ministry's thoughts on the First and Second War. He studied the mistakes the Dark Lord had made, starting with trusting the wrong man and ending with being too ambitious to be able to finish what he had started.<p>

Tom Riddle had become so invested in Harry Potter that he lost sight of his original goal.

Draco couldn't help smiling as he thought about that. _He_ was becoming invested in Potter too. That couldn't possibly be a good sign.

Everything Harry touched turned to dust.


	7. Chapter 7

In the Head Auror's office, Harry was leaning back on his chair with Blaise straddled over him, lavishing attention on his neck. Harry tipped his head to the side while running his hands up and down Blaise's sides, eliciting shivers and gasps. "Do we really have to do this in here?" Harry mumbled, closing his eyes.

"Hmm," Blaise answered.

"Then tell me why you want _me_," Harry said.

Blaise savored the skin against his lips and tongue, slowly nibbling as he thought up an answer. "Because," he said slowly, "you're you."

Harry didn't smile at the expected answer. "And?"

"You're a good fuck."

Harry did smile then, hearing the other expected answer. "And?"

"And," Blaise whispered, lifting his head to look at Harry. It shocked Draco at times to realize what he was doing. He was sleeping with the boy he had met twenty years ago on the Hogwarts Express. He was taking advantage of the boy who had saved the world from darkness and death. "And… you're different," Blaise finished.

"Different," Harry echoed, rolling the world against his tongue.

"I want you to tell me all your secrets," Blaise said seductively as he teased Harry's hair. "I want you to need no one but me. And I want you to want no one but me."

Harry stared at Blaise with unhidden awe. "Why are you being so honest?" he asked, as though trying to figure Blaise out.

"So you'll be honest with me," Blaise whispered, ghosting his breath over Harry's lips. They stayed still, eyes closed and waiting. He felt Harry relax under him and he knew it wasn't just a physical reaction.

Their lips touched. Barely a kiss.

A short alarm rang, splitting them apart. "Shit," Harry growled in frustration, hiding his face in his hands. Blaise couldn't help but laugh. Harry picked his head up at this, looking at Blaise incredulously.

"I can laugh," Blaise reasoned, offended that Potter appeared so shocked.

"I… um… I've just never… ugh, never mind," Harry stammered, pushing Blaise off of him. "I'll be back in five. Don't go anywhere," he said, grabbing his robe from the table and rushing out of the office.

Blaise sat down on Harry's chair, thoroughly satisfied. He was in the Head Auror's office. Perfect. He tapped the arm of the chair, inspecting the view. Spacious, regal. He tried the drawers on the table.

"Oh?" he mumbled, pulling out the familiar looking file. That was easy. He opened the page. Staring up at him was the lunatic image of Bellatrix Lestrange. He quickly flipped to the prison reports from her first imprisonment in Azkaban. There were many psych evaluations, reprimands, and isolations. He moved towards the end of the report.

_Prisoner 27834 will be transported to the Ministry holding facility for further questioning by the Auror department._

Blaise sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. She was alive. Of course she was alive. Why would _anyone_ think her dead? She wasn't that easy to be disposed of. He shook out of his thoughts and kept reading.

_High security transportation will be required. Note levels of wandless magic and dangerous psychological symptoms. Threat level Red. _

The door clicked. Blaise shut the file and threw it back into the drawer. He closed it gently just as Harry walked in. "False alarm," the Auror said with a shrug. He pulled off his robe again, walking to the table where Blaise sat passively. "So… Where were we?"

Blaise grabbed Harry by the shirt and jerked him down, landing passionate kisses against his lips. Harry stiffened in response, trying to pull away. Blaise wouldn't let him, dragging him down until he was seated on Blaise's lap. "Stop," Harry tried to say, his words lost against lips. Blaise bunched the raven hair in his fingers and yanked it. Harry gasped in pain as his head fell back in response. Blaise shoved him onto the desk and cupped his groin. Harry threw his weight forward, catching Blaise on the chest. Instead of stumbling back, he bore down on Harry while pressing his tongue against the fleshy cheeks. He nearly ripped Harry's pants off as he muttered the lubricating charm. Slicking himself and before giving Harry time to prepare, he thrust in.

"Stop," Harry inhaled, shuddering in pain. "Fuck. D-don't."

Blaise grabbed Harry's chin and made him turn his head. Tears of agony spilt across his cheeks. "Look at me," Blaise demanded.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut instead.

Blaise pressed his lips against Harry's, waiting. He heard the gasping sobs that Harry held in his throat. He tasted the tears. He felt the trembling.

"Move," Harry whispered.

They started kissing at the same time, parting their teeth to let in wandering tongues. Harry invited the pain and, like the snake, Draco would give it to him. Draco would give him a taste of pain, then a taste of pleasure. Draco would change him, mold him, shape him. The poison would creep into Potter's heart until all he would think about was Draco. No... Blaise. Harry wrapped his arms around Blaise's neck.

Blaise crushed Harry to him as they became enveloped in a blanket of lewd lust. Harry spread his legs wider, inciting Blaise. In response, Blaise dug deeper to draw out cries of ecstasy. Melded together, they gave into the calls of carnal indulgence. Harsh exhales, firm grips and a steady rhythm kept them going. Blaise smelt the scent of the submissive man, attempting to stop from going wild with need. Slowly, all thought left him as he was immersed in Harry's warmth, in Harry's touch, in Harry's embrace.

And it terrified him.

Why would Harry give so much and ask for nearly nothing in return?

Potter was scaring him.

Harry let out a relieved sigh when Blaise pulled away. As the latter zipped himself up, the former closed his eyes and caught his breath, legs dangling from the end of the table. He barely felt the final kiss of the night and he vaguely heard the door shut. He groaned in pain as he sat up and turned around. He was alone. He searched blindly for his wand, attempting to clean up the mess around him despite the fact that his hand was shaking terribly. He winced as he hopped off of the table and collapsed onto the chair. He slowly dressed himself, his breath returning to normal as he controlled his emotions.

* * *

><p>"That's the third time you've cancelled on me," Ginny muttered angrily.<p>

"I can't help it if work is getting to me," Blaise tried to say.

She would have none of his excuses. "You've never had to _work_ before. And now, all of sudden, it's all about work? What's going on here?" she snapped.

"Nothing!" Blaise exclaimed.

"Do you not want me around anymore? Is that it? Already tired of me?" she asked, a fierce expression causing her lips to coil up into a sneer.

Draco was more than fed up with the way she was acting – like a spoilt child who wanted her mother's attention. "I can't be here every single minute for you!" Blaise argued.

"I'm around for you, aren't I?" she exclaimed. "I'm here for you and I expect you to do the same for me!"

Blaise clenched his fists so he wouldn't end up hexing Ginny to oblivion. He grabbed his coat and stormed out of the flat, ignoring the woman's hysterical calls. He had no use of her anymore. He had Potter and now Ginny had no value.

* * *

><p>"Is the assignment wearing on you?" Rodolphus asked, scanning Draco's gaunt body.<p>

"The potion," Draco murmured. "I'll be fine once it is over."

"We are ahead of schedule, Draco. So if you wish to end this early, we can."

"No," Draco shook his head. "Four more weeks."

"If you are sure."

* * *

><p>"What secrets would you like to know?" Harry asked, feathering kisses down the strong jaw.<p>

Blaise smiled lazily. "Your greatest fear," he said without taking a moment to think.

"So you can use it against me?" Harry murmured.

"Yes."

Harry hid his smile against skin but Blaise could still feel it. "My greatest fear…" he sighed. "Disappointing my parents."

Blaise turned his head to look at Harry. That was an honest answer, which unnerved Draco. "You saved the world. I don't think you could disappoint them," Blaise said.

"I'm sure they're disappointed with what I'm doing right now. With you," Harry said.

"Really?"

"Yes."

Blaise nodded, not adding to that. So Potter didn't really want to do this, and yet… "So why? Why are you doing this with me?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, smiling again. "You… Hmm," he made a show of thinking. "I can't help wondering if you have a hidden agenda."

"Oh?"

"So," Harry continued, lying on top of Blaise and pressing his ear against the calm heart, "until I find out what it is, I'll keep this up."

"And if I don't have an agenda?" Blaise asked.

"Then I'll just make you fall in love with me," Harry said nonchalantly.

"Bastard," Blaise chuckled, pulling Harry up into a soft kiss. "I'd never."

"Is that a challenge, Zabini?" Harry asked.

"Maybe."

"Because I got you to kiss me, didn't I?" Harry whispered, staring Blaise in the eye.

There were so many unsaid words in that look and Draco couldn't possibly read it all. "Are you manipulating me?" Blaise asked, seeing the amusement and coyness.

"Yes," Harry said with a sweet grin. "It's what I do."

"How do you know I'm not manipulating you?" Blaise asked.

"I know you are."

Blaise rolled them over so they were on their sides. "Smart man," he said as Harry snuck in a kiss.

"Want to hear another secret?" Harry asked after hugging Blaise close as a gesture of goodnight.

"What?" Blaise asked, watching Harry get dressed. Draco unconsciously admired the Auror's muscled body, lean and strong. It was always so warm to the touch, a perfect match for Blaise's cold skin. The scar on the back moved with each twist of Harry's body, a proud mark. His body was hidden away under jeans and a shirt all too soon, however.

Harry caught Blaise inspecting him before the latter could turn away. He smiled slyly, narrowing his eyes. "Checking me out?" he asked.

"Hmm," Blaise responded.

Harry leaned down so they were inches away. "I'd have made a great Slytherin," he hissed, running the tip of his tongue over Blaise's lips.

Blaise smiled, knowing that was indeed a true statement.

"Bye," Harry said before disappearing out the door.

Blaise closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath. "A great Slytherin," he echoed, nodding in approval.

* * *

><p>Draco pressed the dagger against the woman's throat, drawing a drop of blood at a time. "Well?" he asked.<p>

"I don't know anything," she cried. "Please, let me go?"

Draco sighed tiredly, tossing her away and turning to Rodolphus. "I'm seriously fed up with this nonsense," he grumbled, wiping the blade clean against his jeans. "Just get what you need and erase all of her memories. I don't feel like doing this today."

"Whatever you say," Rodolphus smiled, shaking his head at his preoccupied nephew while silencing the screaming woman with a flick of his wand.

* * *

><p>Harry knew he was being watched, so he made sure to lick the spoon sensually after each chocolaty bite. Blaise's eyes followed the silver scoop that was settled comfortably in Harry's fingers, waiting to be lapped at.<p>

Harry scooped another spoonful of ice cream and brought the spoon to his mouth, sliding his tongue over his lips as he let the dessert melt in against it.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Bernie asked in wonder.

"Eating ice cream," Harry said nonchalantly, causing Blaise, who was one table away, to have to press a hand to his mouth so he wouldn't burst out laughing.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry watched through the one-way mirror. Bellatrix Lestrange was in the white and empty room, looking absolutely filthy in contrast.

"Are you sure, sir?" the orderly asked, twisting her hands nervously.

"Yes," Harry said with a curt nod. "Unlock the door."

She seemed somewhat reluctant but the other Aurors did not try to stop Harry so she pressed her wand against the lock. With a series of patterns, she opened each deadbolt until the last one clicked with abysmal finality.

"Thank you," Harry said. He opened the door and walked in alone, closing it behind him. It locked shut, trapping him inside with the most notorious witch in history.

Bellatrix looked up from her chipped nails, bored. A flicker of familiarity struck her eyes. "Little baby Potter?" she asked in mock disbelief. "All grown up, are we?"

"Bellatrix," he greeted.

"Isn't it strange how you expect me to help you when I have no intention of doing that?" she murmured.

"If you'd like us to stop questioning you, perhaps you could just tell us where the hideout is," Harry said.

"Why would I do that?" she asked. "Why would I sell out the faithful followers of my Lord?"

"Because your Lord is dead," Harry said. He remained standing, looking down at Bellatrix. Her black hair was now dusted with silvers and whites. Wrinkles sat on her once striking face. Prison wore on her, slowly eroding her flesh. But her eyes shone still with malicious intent.

"Is that what you think?" she asked with condescending undertone. "Every gathering requires a leader."

"And that leader is?"

She cackled. "I've been locked up for years, Potter. Or had you forgotten?"

"You don't know who the leader is," Harry answered for her. "So how do you know there still is a following?"

"Oh, I know," she said in a singsong voice. "I know this."

Harry knelt down, wand drawn but held unthreateningly. "And if I were to say that your husband is now your Lord?"

Bellatrix looked stricken. "I don't believe you," she said, her words strained.

"Oh?" Harry quirked his brow. "Rodolphus Lestrange? Surely you have heard of him."

"Lies," she spat out.

"I'd have thought you would be ecstatic, Bellatrix," Harry said smoothly. "He is your Lord in marriage and in life."

She hissed as though she were seared with hot iron.

"And my theory is that he used _you_ to get to that position. Being your husband has many… advantages, I daresay, " Harry continued. "Thanks to you, he is now controlling the Dark Army."

"He knows nothing," she said, her face twisted into a mask of disgust. "He knows nothing and so he cannot be Lord. He is a pawn. He has always been the pawn."

"So there really is someone else behind him," Harry said to himself. "I guessed as much. But everyone near and dear to Tom Riddle is either dead or locked away."

"Don't you dare!" she screeched, lunging at Harry.

He deflected her with a flick of his wand. She was held fast against the wall, unable to move. "He is _dead_," Harry said emphatically. "Stop this."

"You have no right to call him by his name," she scorned. "No one has the right."

"No one but you, you mean?" Harry wondered.

"No one," she exhaled.

"Isn't it sad? Your once elite group of Death Eaters reduced to nothing?" Harry provoked.

"Yet you fear us," Bellatrix answered.

"Do you fear me?"

Bellatrix frowned, the question unbidden and abrupt. "You?" she scoffed. "Why on Earth would I fear you?"

"Could you fear someone like me?" Harry asked quietly.

"I have nothing more to say," she said, her lethal glare enough to kill a man if he weren't Potter.

"Then," Harry murmured, flicking his eyes at the mirror through which he knew his team was watching and listening. He waved his wand at it, casting it opaque and making the room soundproof. "Then could you fear your nephew?"

Bellatrix leaned back in response, her mouth open but no sound emitting from it.

"If you can't fear me, can you fear Draco Malfoy?" Harry asked with a faint smile. "He is like your son, isn't he? Can you fear your son?"

"What are you saying?" Bellatrix asked breathlessly.

"Malfoy is at my fingertips," Harry said, swiping his thumb over his fingers. "All I need to do is wish for him and he'll be by my side – the mastermind behind your precious Dark Army."

Her breath was ragged as she shook her head slowly.

"Do you fear him now?" Harry whispered, his emerald irises piercing through the woman. "Do you fear me now, Bellatrix?"

"Draco doesn't know. He is a child," she said distantly.

"It's been years. You've been locked away for years," Harry said, his lips curled up into a predatory smirk. "Malfoy's not a child any longer. Your husband might be all anyone sees. But Draco…"

"No," she said, her voice trembling.

"I have him now. And I have your Dark Army. Would you rather have them dead or alive?" Harry asked nonchalantly.

"Y-you… you…"

"Because the easy way to work through this is for you to tell me where they might be hiding. The hard way would be to… simply kill. Isn't that right?" he asked.

"Who are you?" Bellatrix asked, shrinking into herself.

Harry chuckled lightly. "I'm not little baby Potter anymore, remember?" he said, getting up onto his feet. "Think that over." He retracted his spells from the window, giving his team the signal to open the door. "And let me know when you're ready to talk. I'll listen." The door unlocked and Harry walked out, hearing the angered scream behind him.

* * *

><p>Harry clenched the sheets with his fists, groaning in time. Blaise slid over top of him with ease, sweat slicking both their bodies. Holding himself up on his forearms and knees, Harry's back was arched down and his hips ground against Blaise shamelessly. Blaise pressed his lips against Harry's ear, kissing him. Harry turned his head, capturing those lips in his. Blaise ran his hands up Harry's thighs and onto the waist that thrust back with accompanying gasps of torture. Then he touched each muscle that held the lean torso together. Harry collapsed onto the mattress when he felt soft caresses against his sensitive stomach. "No," he groaned, trying to get away from the teasing fingers. Blaise smiled in confusion, increasing his ministrations. "P-please," Harry begged, moving without being prompted to.<p>

"What's wrong?" Blaise whispered.

"Not there," Harry whimpered as Blaise drew light circles against his skin just below his navel. "Ah," he gasped as a shock of intense pleasure rocked him. "Please," he shuddered.

"I'm not doing anything," Blaise laughed, kissing Harry's back. Muscles were rippling in quick succession as Harry spiraled into dizzying depths of desire. Draco realized that he had never made Harry cry out like this before. He had never tried gentle touches before.

Blaise pushed into Harry as he stroked the taut stomach. Harry was sobbing now, unrestrained and trembling. Blaise closed his eyes when he felt warmth envelope him, urging him closer to an orgasm. He thrust into Harry again, rewarded with pleasure. Knowing that he was making Harry feel this good after taking him into the realm of pain was empowering Draco. Blaise feathered kisses over Harry's back. Harry didn't know where to turn to in order to get reprieve. He wrenched the bedcovers out as he lost control. With a roar, he climaxed. Blaise mewled at this, pushed into his orgasm at the same time. Pouring his seed into Harry, he felt the man shudder uncontrollably under him. Their breaths were ragged and fierce, never having achieved this level of ecstasy before.

Harry shoved Blaise off of him and curled up in a tight ball, hugging himself. "D-don't touch me," he shivered. Blaise wasn't about to let that stop him. He curved around Harry and brushed his hands against the sweat that fell down Harry's arms and back. Harry moaned, sensitive to each touch. "No," he breathed, hiding his face against his chest by tucking his chin in.

"You've never said no this many times before," Blaise said, continuing to stroke Harry's body. "Why start now? You know I won't stop."

Harry needed to get a hold of himself. This was Draco Malfoy. This was work. Nothing else. Just undercover work. Malfoy had just given him the most amazing orgasm and it was threatening to take him over. This sex meant nothing. Keep focused, keep calm. Find out everything about Malfoy and then catch him red-handed.

A soft tickle against Harry's side undid him.

He whipped around and threw his arms around Blaise. "Make me come again," he begged.

Draco swooned at Harry's desperate expression. This was Harry Potter. This was work. Nothing else. Just undercover work. Potter gazing up at him as though he were the only thing that mattered should not affect him like this. If the man kept this up, Draco would be lost in the haze of lust. This sex meant nothing. Keep focused, keep calm. Find out everything about Bellatrix Lestrange and then get rid of Potter.

A single tear slid down Harry's cheek, undoing Draco.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," Blaise exhaled in awe, kissing Harry breathless.

How Draco wished he could kiss Harry with his own lips and touch the wonderful body with his own hands…

Harry pulled Blaise on top of him, sniffing back while wrapping his legs around the narrow waist. Blaise slid a hand under Harry's neck and placed his head against the crook. Harry opened up deeper than ever for Blaise, whispering half-sentences into his skin as they moved. Blaise felt the tears and sweat, slowly drawing both out of Harry as they breathed in synchrony.

"I love you," Harry whispered.

Blaise kissed him intensely, bruising the lips that had said those words. "I love you too," he answered.

Harry's head fell to the side as he pushed his limits. He couldn't tell hot from cold as his body flashed through successions. "But not really," he added.

Draco felt like crying and he didn't even know why. "But not really," Blaise repeated, smiling against Harry's cheek.

They slept in each other's arms that night, holding on as though not wanting the other to disappear as would a dream.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry had been suspicious since the beginning, wondering why Blaise was suddenly cold and distant. The man was usually all smiles for Harry. Then he had exploded into harsh words and jibes because Harry had reprimanded him in the slightest way. Baise? Questioning authority? Unheard of.

Sure, Blaise seemed more Blaise-like afterwards, worried about Harry's well-being and even going as far as to smiling again. But then he had dressed Harry's wound. Harry couldn't imagine Blaise ever touching broken skin. He was much too... proper.

And Blaise has never played Quidditch…

Harry had had to make a decision then. So he had invited Blaise out for drinks.

That had ended in a disaster. Harry had never thought that sex could be painful until that night. He couldn't remember half of it. Pain ran down his entire body, inside and out. He kept telling himself that Blaise wouldn't be doing this and that this was someone else. It was what kept him going. He needed to find out who this was.

He couldn't recall blacking out, but he did remember the tremendous crashes coming from his study. He managed to shuffle to the room without fainting again, wand at the ready and vision swimming from the pain in his back. He opened the door quietly, eyes widening as he took in the mess. Then he looked up at his desk.

For a moment, he thought that he was dreaming. This couldn't be real. Because standing before him with his back turned away was the elusive Draco Malfoy.

Harry, now more alert than ever, moved closer stealthily. Draco seemed too preoccupied to notice.

"Malfoy," Harry whispered.

Draco turned around just as Harry pressed his wand to the man. He fell unconscious, crumpling into a heap.

Harry couldn't believe it. It really was Draco Malfoy.

Then he had had to do some quick thinking. He cleaned up the mess in his office, finding nothing that was stolen or tampered with. He healed himself, which was a slower process that he had thought. Then he had floated Draco back into bed. Searching through the man's pockets, Harry had found a vial of Polyjuice. He made Draco drink it, watching Blaise form before his very eyes.

And then they kept up the charades. Draco would be Blaise and Harry would play naïve until he could figure out what Draco was after.

But somewhere along the line, things changed…

* * *

><p>Harry inhaled sharply, falling into his wakeful state. He tried to clutch onto the bed to stop. He found his hands tied to the headboard and his legs splayed to either side and then bound to the posts. Once the situation entered his sleep-addled mind, his eyes shot open and he strained furiously.<p>

He stared into unreadable mercury eyes. Not onyx. Not menacing. Elegantly powerful.

"Malfoy?" he asked carefully, his words thick with sleep as he stopped struggling.

"Hmm," Draco murmured.

Harry roved his eyes over the ruffled platinum hair, near feminine lips and tapered chin. He let his gaze travel down, taking in the muscled chest that eerily mirrored his own. He looked up at Draco again. "Malfoy," he said.

In one swift motion, Draco drew his wand up and touched it against Harry's neck just as Harry summoned his wand soundlessly. Before he could get a good grip on the phoenix wand with his bound hands, Draco wrenched it away and flung it to the side. Harry hissed in anger, lurching against the ropes.

Draco dug the tip of his wand into Harry's neck, where the pulse was showing. Harry froze instantly, his head tilted up. "Potter," Draco whispered. "You aren't shocked… You knew?" he asked, somehow not surprised by that fact.

"Let me go."

Draco slid his wand up Harry's neck to his cheek and up to his temple. Harry waited, taut and ready to fight.

"_Imperio_," Draco whispered.

"Hn," Harry groaned, arching his back and then slamming against the bed. He felt a soft tingle run into his mind and down his spine. He breathed out, letting the magic leave him.

"Kiss me," Draco said. He crept on top of Harry, sliding his tongue against the pursed lips. They moaned in unison. Harry felt so much better when Draco was using his own tongue. The exhilaration of the threatening words was making them that much more enthusiastic. Harry's breath came in spurts as Draco decided to feel him up. When the fingers dipped down and slid between his parted legs, he bit Draco's tongue.

Harry's lips stayed parted even as Draco broke the kiss. They were slightly dazed and shaky. "I wanted to see for myself," Draco explained, moving his wand away from Harry's temple and back to his neck. "I've never seen anyone deflect the Imperius Curse…"

"I'm strong willed," Harry said, his chin tilted up defiantly.

Draco looked proud when Harry said that. "Why aren't you scared?" he asked.

"You haven't killed me yet."

"I'm not done with you," Draco answered. "And who said anything about killing you? I just wanted to use you."

"Well," Harry said, flicking his eyes away. "You've definitely been… using me."

Draco laughed when he saw Harry's ruddy cheeks. "And you haven't killed me because…"

"I'm not done with you," Harry said boldly. "Where's Blaise Zabini?"

"Dead."

"Damn it," Harry tensed, his jaw clicking.

"I didn't kill him," Draco said in an unaffected tone.

"You fucking scare me," Harry exhaled.

Draco nudged Harry's cheek with his nose, gently coaxing. "Where's Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Fuck you."

"Tell me," Draco urged.

"I'm serious, Malfoy. Fuck off," Harry said firmly.

Draco cast a quick Legilimency spell on Harry, extracting the information quite easily. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked as Harry gasped from the sudden pain in his head.

"That hurt," Harry groaned in agony, squeezing his eyes shut to ward off any nausea.

"You're of no use to me now," Draco announced importantly.

Harry cracked his eyes open. "I let you do that," he said.

"I know," Draco winked.

"I'll be waiting for you."

"I'm looking forward to it," Draco provoked. Harry piqued a brow. Draco smiled in response. "When did you know?"

Harry dug his nails into his palms to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "I… had a hunch a couple months ago. Did you really think I'd sleep with Blaise?" he asked.

"I don't know. Would you?" Draco wondered.

"I needed to figure you out."

"So you knew from the beginning? When we first started?"

"Hmm," Harry shrugged.

Draco didn't know what to say to that. "You really are cold blooded, aren't you?" He traced Harry's features with his fingers, never wanting to let go. "So… what now?" he asked.

"Now," Harry sighed. "Now I will come after you. And I'll put you in Azkaban."

"On what charge?" Draco asked.

"Murder, treason, and impersonation."

"I've never killed a man," Draco said, sliding his hand down Harry's stomach.

"Ah," Harry breathed, his body quivering. But he quickly caught himself before he was consumed. "Attempted murder, then," he said.

Draco jerked his brows slyly. "Only if you can catch me first," he said.

Harry fixed an intense stare on Draco. "I've already caught you," he corrected.

Draco kissed Harry's supple lips. "And now I'm getting away," he hummed as he trailed that kiss down to Harry's stomach. He dropped his wand and made good use of Harry being tied in such an obscene position. Harry's torturous groans of pleasure echoed through the room. After lavishing what seemed like an eternity of affection on Harry's navel, Draco moved up.

"Untie me," Harry said hurriedly, inviting Draco's lips into his. "I want to touch you," he begged.

"No," Draco smirked. "Do you take me for an idiot?"

"Damn it," Harry moaned.

"But if I touch you, that means you're touching me, right?" Draco reasoned. Harry shivered in anticipation, closing his eyes. Harry's sultry body was perfect against Draco's. Perfect…

* * *

><p>Harry slid his hand over the bed before opening his eyes.<p>

Draco was gone.

He groaned with in embarrassment. "Fuck you," he muttered, getting up and stretching. He reached for his wand, finally feeling in control now that he had his weapon on him. "_Expecto Patronum_," he chanted, casting the stag. The shimmering animal waited for the message. "Triple the security detail on Prisoner 27834. No one gets in or out," he said, waving his wand once again. The stag disappeared in a flash.

Harry looked down at his chaffed wrists, breathing in deeply. "Draco Malfoy," he sighed. "Let's see how far you go."

* * *

><p>Draco sipped his tea, feeling unusually energized. He closed his eyes, smiling privately as he remembered Harry's ardent expression and erotic cries. Draco had had the most remarkable night. And to think it was because of that man. "Harry Potter," he murmured. "Try and stop me."<p>

* * *

><p>Bellatrix had a cold mask of indifference on her when Harry entered the room. Harry waited for a biting greeting. He was met with silence. "Oh? No taunts today?" he asked.<p>

"What do you want?" she asked.

"You know what I want," Harry said. "So why do you keep asking?"

"I'm not afraid of you," she spat out. "Your filthy mudblood mother may have saved you once but she's long gone and so is her protection. Don't you dare think that you're invincible. You'll die like any other man."

"Like your Dark Lord, you mean?"

She inhaled sharply, appearing to be in pain. Harry didn't press her on that point.

"Have you thought over what I had said last time?" he asked instead.

"Lies," she snarled.

"Then you wouldn't mind seeing your dead nephew?" Harry asked.

"He's not dead," she muttered.

"Oh?"

"I know he's not dead," she clarified.

Harry nodded slowly. "You're right. He isn't. And if I were to tell you that he knows where you are?" he said.

She looked confused.

"If I were to tell you that I told him where you were being held, what would you say?"

She frowned in puzzlement. "That means nothing to me," she said. "Why would that…" She stopped, slow realization dawning on her.

"Can you tell me in all certainty that he won't kill you for what you did to his family?" Harry asked, tapping his wand to his leg absently.

"What are you saying?" she asked shakily.

"Didn't I tell you that I had him at my fingertips?" Harry reminded her. "He will come for you. This I know. And when he comes for you, do you expect to leave with them or die at their hands?"

"He c-he wouldn't kill me! I'm-h-he… He's not capable! Why would he kill me?" she asked, her eyes flickering with unnamed emotions.

"You assume too much," Harry said, sitting down next to Bellatrix. She moved away in response. Harry didn't comment. "Tell me, what was the Dark Army's purpose when Tom was alive?"

She didn't answer, her teeth clicking as she bit down hard.

"It was to purge the world of half-breeds and traitors, was it not?" Harry answered for her.

Her heart thundered against her chest.

"And now Tom is dead. What is the Dark Army's purpose now?" Harry wondered, tilting his head at Bellatrix.

She didn't know. She hadn't thought it would be any different from the Dark Lord's intent.

Harry opened the file in his hand, scanning it. "Shall I tell you?" he asked, not waiting for an answer. "I've been trying to prosecute them for years now. There are over twenty disappearances, nearly thirty torture charges, blackmail, treason… The list goes on." He flipped the page. "Draco Lucius Malfoy. I've been on his ghost trail for four years. He is _that_ good. I haven't sighted him in over a decade." Then he smiled unconsciously. "Until a few weeks ago, I suppose. But that's beside the point. Now, nearly half of the torture charges I spoke about were committed from _his_ wand."

"He is not capable of doing that," Bellatrix said, fear moving into her voice.

"I assure you, he is more than capable. He is capable to making many people disappear. Fenrir Greyback, Antonin Dolohov, Thorfinn Rowle, Amycus Carrow… Ringing any bells?" Harry asked with a smirk.

Bellatrix was pale enough to make her appear as though Death himself had asked her to dance. "No," she breathed.

"Yes," Harry said. "He is doing what I, as an Auror, cannot do ethically. He is purging the world of _your_ kind. Evil. Vile. Black. That is his purpose now. That is the purpose of the Dark Army."

"M-my Draco?" she stammered.

"Your Draco," Harry confirmed. "Your nephew, your husband, your brother-in-law, your people. Your people are turning against each other."

"This can't be happening," Bellatrix breathed, bunching her hair in her trembling fingers.

"And _you_ are my bait," Harry said with flourish. "But, if you think about it, whether I catch him or not, it's not going to be a good outcome for you, Mrs. Lestrange."

"This is not possible! You aren't allowed to do this!" she panicked.

"I'm Harry Potter. I can do whatever I want," Harry said with a winning grin. "So, do you want to tell me where to find them or should I let _them_ find _you_?"

* * *

><p>Harry opened the door to a rather teary Ginevra Weasley. "Um…" he didn't know what else to say.<p>

"I'm sorry," she wailed, throwing herself at him.

"Okay," he said carefully, hugging her comfortingly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," she sobbed.

"Yeah," Harry murmured. "I'm not really sure what for, though."

"If you weren't so perfect and nice, you'd know why," she cried.

Harry sighed, already late for work as it is. "Then make me imperfect and mean and tell me what you're so sorry about," he said.

"I cheated on you," she confessed haltingly. "I cheated on you and you… you didn't even notice?"

Ginny cheating on him really didn't make a dent in his mind that was thick with thoughts about Draco and Bellatrix. "I'm sorry I didn't notice," he said, waiting for her to blow up on him for saying that.

Her wailing tripled in volume. "Why do you insist on making me feel lower than scum?" she screamed, apparently having no care for Harry's eardrums.

Harry flinched away as her piercing voice made his ears ring. "Okay, okay, I won't do that again," he said, trying to make peace with her. "Want to tell me who with?"

"This is not a joke, Harry! You-I-we-we've been together for so long and you don't even care if I cheat on you?" Ginny asked, utterly miserable.

"I'm sure it was a mistake and you just said sorry to me. So…"

"I slept with Blaise Zabini!" she shouted.

Harry pushed Ginny away. "What did you say?" he asked in horror.

Glad that she was finally getting through to him, she kept talking. "I started seeing him a few years ago. It wasn't anything serious. Just… sex. And then… now… but he just-"

"Wait, now?" Harry asked, gripping Ginny's shoulders painfully.

"You're hurting me, Harry," she said, shaking under his furious glare. "I-I'm sorry. I already said I'm sorry!"

"Now, Ginny. What about now?" Harry asked over her pleading. "Have you been sleeping with him after we broke up?"

"Yes," she wept.

"Damn it," Harry growled, pushing Ginny out of the way and racing out the door, Disapparating to the Ministry.


	10. Chapter 10

The infiltration took place at the perfect moment – the change of shifts. In the depths of a cloudy night, the Dark Army appeared from the shadows. Light as air, they slipped inside the barely alit building, quietly incapacitating the security wizards with a silent spell.

On the fifth floor, the new Aurors and law enforcement teams were getting into place, guarding all elevators, stairs and the door that held Bellatrix Lestrange.

As soon as the lifts started operating without consent from the guards at the reception, alarms rang. Wands were out in a flash, tensions rising exponentially. The wizards and witches glanced at each other, shoulders hunched and stances defensive as they awaited the assault.

The elevators slithered open, letting out a plume of yellow gas.

The ones who weren't quick enough fell to the ground unceremoniously, loud thumps heard throughout the floor. The rest cast various charms to protect against the chemical.

The confusion was all the time the Dark Army needed to slip into the floor through the stairs, trying to incapacitate as many Aurors as possible. Less than ten seconds later, the floor was filled with loud shattering and blinding flashes of light as spell after spell was cast by both sides. There was chaos on the side of the Ministry while the Dark Army was gaining the upper hand, slowly but surely.

Draco shut the door behind him, leaving the rubble and screams outside the white room.

"Draco," Bellatrix murmured, the reality of the situation finally striking her. It _was_ true, then… It was all too true.

"Aunt Bellatrix," Draco nodded curtly.

"Come to kill me?" she asked, her face twisting into a mask of disgust and pity. She was expecting him to falter, to fail.

"Yes," Draco answered with honesty, his wand rising as Bellatrix's expression changed to pure fear.

"Wand on the ground and hands behind your head, Malfoy," Harry murmured, pulling his cloak off and digging his wand into the small of Draco's back.

Draco closed his eyes in frustration, his wand still trained at Bellatrix. "You want me to do this, Potter," he said.

"Wand on the ground and hands behind your head," Harry repeated.

"No," Draco said, gritting his teeth.

"Now, Malfoy."

"No."

Harry swept his leg at Draco, knocking him off balance. Draco jerked his elbow back, hoping to catch Harry's stomach. Harry grabbed his arm and twisted him around, causing their chests to bump together. Before Draco could utter the Killing Curse, Harry's hand enveloped Draco's wand hand and he whispered, "_Petrificus_."

Bellatrix fell to the ground, frozen. Draco stared into Harry's murderous green eyes. "Let me kill her," he implored. "You don't have anything to lose."

"You hurt Ginny," Harry said, his voice shaking.

Draco frowned in confusion. "Wh-what?" he stammered.

"You… you hurt _my_ Ginny, you _fucking_ bastard," Harry hissed, bunching Draco's shirt in his hands and pressing his wand against Draco's heart. "I should kill you for that."

"I… I never… I never hurt her!" Draco exclaimed. "_She_ came to _me_!"

"You can touch _me_, you can hurt _me_, you can kill _me_, but if you _ever_ make her cry, I'll tear your fucking head off," Harry snarled, his wordless spell already spiraling towards Draco.

Draco instinctually raised his shield, deflecting the curse. The men staggered back, the force of the magic pushing them away. "I didn't hurt her," Draco tried to explain. "I just… I didn't hurt her!"

Harry was throwing curse after curse at the damned shield, trying to crack it. "YOU BLOODY BASTARD, I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!" he shouted in rage.

Draco stumbled back as each furious spell sent shocks through his body. "STOP! STOP, DAMN IT!" he yelled, trying to get through to Harry. His back bumped against the wall. "Fuck," he swore out of exasperation. "_Expell_-"

"_Flagrate_," Harry interrupted, slashing his wand.

Draco spun out of the way, his arm caught in the path of the spell. Heat seared through his skin, causing him to lurch in pain. He cast a quick _Protego_ once again, stopping Harry's onslaught of charms. "What do you want?" Draco asked helplessly, feeling blood drip down his sleeve.

"_Confringo!_" Harry jabbed his wand fiercely, bursting through Draco's shield. Draco crumbled to the ground, the backlash of his magic winding him. He couldn't breathe, his throat closing up and his lungs quickly starving. He tried to move his wand towards Bellatrix's frozen body, needing to finish her off.

Harry stepped on Draco's hand, crushing it. Once the grip on the wand was gone, he kicked the weapon away. And that was that. It was over in an instant. One miserable instant.

Draco dragged his bruised hand away, pressing it to his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut in defeat. What a pathetic way to die…

But he supposed he had overstayed his welcome. He was becoming too reckless, too impulsive. Perhaps it was finally time. His thoughts swam in pain and darkness. He had done the best he could do. Maybe he'd see his mother again. This time, she might kiss him back. He convulsed as his body tried to jolt him into breathing. He felt hands touching him and he shrunk away. It was okay to give up now. He hoped Harry would make sure that Bellatrix was locked away forever. Potter was much stronger, in any case. It would be alright if Draco died.

A sudden crash made the door splinter open. Before Harry could respond with a swift spell, he was thrown back jarringly by a red spark. He crashed against the wall with a resounding crack and then slid down, knocked unconscious.

Rabastan and Rodolphus rushed to where Draco was nearly still from asphyxiation. "_Anapneo_," the older brother murmured, touching his wand to Draco's throat.

Draco gasped, coughing heavily.

Not yet.

"My wand," he wheezed. Rabastan found it a little away from them and he handed it over. Draco got up on his hands and knees unsteadily, clearing his throat. "Aunt Bellatrix…"

"Don't strain yourself," Rabastan said, pressing a steady palm to Draco's back. "We'll take care of her, okay?"

"Take care of her. Don't let her get away," Draco exhaled, trying to stop his frantic heart. He felt faint and would have fallen to the side had it not been for his uncle.

"We need to get you out of here," Rodolphus said, urging Rabastan to get Draco up on his feet.

"I'm fine," Draco said, pushed Rabastan away. "I'm fine. Just go before they get here."

Rodolphus flicked his wand at Bellatrix, making her float. He swiftly left the room, running out into the corridor with the body flying behind him. Meanwhile Rabastan was trying to decide what to do with the unconscious Head Auror. "Want me to take care of him too?" he asked Draco.

"Go. I'll take care of him," Draco growled, shoving his uncle towards the door. "I'll be right behind you."

"Okay. Be careful," Rabastan said, hugging Draco quickly before racing after his brother.

Draco wiped the blood from the side of his mouth, closing his eyes as he caught his breath. This wasn't supposed to happen. "Shit," he swore, kneeling down beside Harry and pressing his wand to the man's heart. "Don't make me do this, Potter."

Harry had blood trickling down his nose, the blow to the head having caused the bleeding. He was breathing shakily, as though in immense pain.

"Open your eyes," Draco urged.

They stayed shut.

Draco leaned forward and touched his forehead to Harry's. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You know I'm sorry, right?"

Harry didn't answer.

Draco clicked his tongue in contempt, breaking away from Harry and getting up again. He slid unexpectedly, righting himself with flailing arms. He looked down to find himself standing on Harry's Invisibility Cloak. He flicked his eyes at Harry and back at the Hallow. He picked it up uncertainly, feeling the fabric fall over his hand weightlessly.

He tightened his grip on the cloak, a slow smile dawning on his lips. "Come find me, okay? I'll be waiting," he urged, throwing the silvery cloth over himself and sprinting out the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Come find me, okay?

Harry inhaled sharply, waking up.

"Oh, thank Merlin," crows of relief sounded around him. He was soon engulfed in crushing hugs and kisses. He was used to this reception. It happened every time he was knocked out cold. Such a pointless routine. It wasn't as though he was dying or anything. He pasted on his bravest smile, apologizing with his eyes and shrugs.

Ginny happened to be the one holding onto him the longest, as always, so he wrapped an arm around her. Considering he only had one arm that wasn't broken, it was the least he could do. "I'm fine," he told her quietly. "Stop crying?"

"I thought you-you just never-don't do that to me again," she sobbed.

"I'll try," Harry murmured. He couldn't remember what had happened. He had incapacitated Draco and then… nothing. "Malfoy?" he asked to anyone who was listening.

"He got away."

Harry winced in frustration. "Of course he did," he growled. "Damn it. He was right there!"

"They took Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry slumped in defeat. "How is this possible? How long have I been out?" he muttered, pushing Ginny away. He needed to think.

Half of the team had been incapacitated by the knockout gas. The other half had been wounded. And to think they weren't able to catch a single member of the Dark Army was a disgrace.

"I'm dead meat," he groaned in dismay.

"It's been three days… But you did great, Harry! We actually know who to look for now. Faces, names, descriptions, numbers. We have a lot to go with here. If you don't get a commendation, I'd be surprised."

"Please, stop talking about work," Ginny pleaded.

That brought the matter of Ginny and Blaise to mind. "Could… I have a moment alone? With Ginny?" he asked the well-wishers in the room. Everyone vacated without argument. Ginny looked relieved now that Harry was turning his attention to her. He waited until everyone had left. He flicked his wand at the door, tripling the privacy charms, more for Ginny's sake than anything else. "Tell me everything he did to you," he said, looking at Ginny unblinkingly.

"Wh-what?" she stammered, taken aback. "No! Are you just-no!"

"I'll blow his damned brains out for what he did," Harry hissed, his expression so savage that Ginny had to physically stop herself from scrambling away.

"It's not like that," she said, tears quick to pool in her eyes. "He didn't… it was… it was _me_, Harry. Not him. He didn't do anything."

"What?" Harry asked, returning to his sane mind. "You?"

"He wouldn't hurt me, Harry. He couldn't! He loves me," Ginny said, trying to make Harry understand.

"Loves… you?" Harry repeated, weak as the words hammered into him.

"After I… I broke up with you, he… he helped me. He was there for me. Don't-he-the way I feel is… I just confused him. I think I was too much for him. But you… You always know how to handle me. It's why I can't get you out of my mind, Harry. It's why I love you. Because you…"

Harry didn't hear anything else she said. Draco loved Ginny? What? That's… it was part of the act, right? Just sex. That's what he had said. It meant nothing to him. Then…

Did Harry mean nothing to him too?

Of course.

Harry was a means to an end.

"Did he hurt you, Ginny?" he asked quietly, interrupting her profession of love.

"I… wh-what do you mean?" she stammered.

"Did he… hit you? Hurt you? Ever?"

Ginny shook her head quickly. "No, I already told you. He isn't like that, Harry. I mean, before… but now."

"Before?" Harry asked.

Ginny winced. "When we first… started. We were both overly enthusiastic. But, the past few weeks, he's been… different. Because he loves me. Don't you see? Don't hurt him, Harry. He didn't do anything. It was _my_ fault, okay?" she explained.

"He never hurt you," Harry echoed, looking through Ginny.

"He was as gentle as you. He was as sweet as you," Ginny assured him. "Don't be angry with him, okay?"

"Okay," Harry said because his mind simply refused to work now. "I'm… tired. I think I'll sleep for some more time. Is that alright?"

"Of course!" Ginny said hurriedly, pushing Harry onto the pillows. "Sleep as much as you want. I'll be right outside, okay?"

"I know," Harry murmured, closing his eyes and turning to the side.

Thinking back to Draco, all he could see was the defeated expression and weary body that was struggling to breathe. Draco had just… given up. Right before Harry's eyes, the man had pulled his injured hand close to his chest and simply given up. It was as though he was done. As though he really didn't have anything else left to do in the world.

A single tear slid down and disappeared onto the fibers of the pillow. He wondered if Draco was dead. Had Draco actually given up on living?

"Three days," Draco whispered, sliding the cloak off of him. "I thought you had managed to die before me, Potter."

Harry stared at Draco who was kneeling beside the bed. Draco with the signature smirk and calm grey eyes. Draco with coifed hair and alabaster skin.

"You aren't supposed to stop looking for me, remember?" Draco murmured, pressing a kiss to Harry's teary cheek. "I've been waiting for sixty hours already."

"Do you love me?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"What do you think?" Draco asked with an impish jerk of his brows. "And this," he added, fingering the Invisibility Cloak, "I'm keeping. Because you damn near killed me."

"You're going?" Harry asked.

"Hmm… I'm the bane of your existence, right?"

Harry nodded.

Draco gazed into Harry's clear green eyes for a moment longer before sliding his hand across the stubbled cheek, fingers sliding into thick hair. His sleeve fell back, revealing a bandaged forearm. Both their eyes turned towards it. Draco attempted another smile, this one weaker and less sure. "You did that," he murmured, feeling a sudden lash of pain in his arm. "It's going to scar."

"But you don't mind, do you?" Harry whispered.

Draco did mind. "It's going to scar over my Dark Mark," he murmured.

Harry looked at the white bandages again, imagining the burnt skin underneath. "Good," he said, turning his head slightly to nuzzle against Draco's hand. "I'm glad."

Draco tilted his head, inspecting Harry. "Remember how I told you I've never killed a man?" he asked.

"You were lying?" Harry mumbled.

"I won't be if you ever let that bitch touch you again," Draco threatened.

"She's my girlfriend," Harry frowned in reproach. "Don't call her a bitch."

"No one touches you but me, understand?"

"Says who?" Harry snubbed.

Draco kissed Harry with so many unsaid words, it was almost unbearable for both men. They prayed for the kiss to never end. It was incredibly soft and safe. Harry pulled his hand out from under his head, reaching forward. Draco moved away from the advancing fingers with a flighty peck. Not yet. "Stop sleeping and come after me," Draco whispered. He threw the cloak over himself, disappearing into the shadows.

Harry smiled, slowly sitting up. He rolled his neck, cracking the kinks and relieving the muscles. "You're just looking for trouble, Malfoy. That's _my_ cloak," he grumbled, pushing the sheets off of him and getting out of bed. He heard a disembodied laugh as the window flung open, the only indication that Draco had just left.

* * *

><p><em>"I want all teams focused on Azkaban gates and any exits that you can dig up."<em>

Harry panted heavily, his hands splayed possessively against the pale chest as he moved.

_"Compile the floor plans and find any and all entry points into that building."_

Draco's eyes fell shut and he arched his back, drowning in ecstasy.

_"All guards must be crosschecked and wanded before allowed entry."_

Harry clenched enticingly, drawing out a soft coo. He slid his fingers into the damp flaxen hair.

_"Get a couple of our men into the security detail any way you can."_

Draco tracked his hands over the taut abs, causing uncontrollable shudders and whimpers to rise from above him.

_"No visitors without express permission."_

Harry bent down and licked the streak of sweat from Draco's neck, savoring the tangy flavor.

_"Make sure all our equipment are precise and accurate."_

Draco nibbled on Harry's shoulder, tasting his salt and warmth.

_"Don't let Malfoy make a fool out of you again."_

Harry clutched Draco's hands, entwining fingers.

_"Like hell I'm letting Potter get his hands on me."_

Draco jerked Harry down, plunging into him with all his strength.

Harry let out a trembling cry, heat spreading through him like wildfire. Draco groaned in response, his orgasm running into Harry's.

_Potter raised his wand at Malfoy, playful smirks on both their lips. "I'll win this time," Potter slighted._

_"Not if I can help it," Malfoy retorted._

"I love you," Harry breathed urgently.

"I love you too," Draco said, kissing Harry with conviction.

"But not really," Harry sighed.

"But not really," Draco murmured as they fell asleep in their tangled mess of sheets and breaths.


End file.
